The Riddle
by Nana
Summary: COMPLETE! An AU fairy tale fic for Sangosama's Fractured Feudal Fairy Tales fic challenge! Miroku must win Sango's hand by outsmarting her with a riddle! Can he do it in time before Sango gets to his neck? Please R&R!
1. By Royal Command

**The Riddle**

**_A Fairy Tale by the Brothers Grimm_**

Retold By 

Nana

(A Sango x Miroku fairy tale)

Chapter 1

By Royal Command

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**Authors' Notes: **The Riddle is one of the shorter, lesser-known tales by the Brothers Grimm, involving a prince who, after a series of near-disastrous encounters, sets out to capture the hand (and heart) of a wily princess. He has to do so by giving her a riddle that she could not solve. The tale has been modified to suit certain details and interpretation that the author has concocted for MiroSan.^^ 

This fic is made in answer to Sango-sama's Fractured Feudal Fairy Tales fic challenge.

**Disclaimer: **The fairy tale belongs rightfully to the Brothers Grimm, and Sango and Miroku belong rightfully to Rumiko Takahashi.

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            As all fairy tales went, this one began no differently. 

Once upon a time, there was a prince who, like all prodigal sons, had managed to test his father's temper to the very limit.

The young man had just turned nineteen, had managed to break the heart of every single princess far and near in at least five kingdoms, and had come home without choosing a bride from any one of them.

Now this would not do, thought the old king as he paced around his study worriedly. He was not getting any younger. He would want to see some grandchildren before he passed on, be reassured that the kingdom would remain safely within his family's reign for generations to come. 

It was a matter of national security, of utmost importance, and Miroku was not showing any signs of indulging his father on his fondest wish!

In all aspects except this one critical detail, the Prince was worthy of all the honors and graces bestowed upon him. He was young, handsome, of cheerful disposition and not without a sound mind. His heart was in the right place when it came to matters that needed deciding for his people's interests. The only problem with him was that he could not decide on matters of the heart!

Charm had come to him quite early, so there was really no problem in that department. The big problem now was why it wasn't bringing in the results the old king was expecting.

Why, oh why, the old king thought with a long-suffering sigh, must he and his wife have an only child?

From far away, the trumpets sounded from the towers of the castle, signifying the arrival of his son.

Miroku was coming home today after a week in the eastern kingdom. Like all his other conquests, the Prince had willingly set out to see Princess Kagome after hearing about her legendary beauty.

After one week of anxious waiting without any word from him, bad news had made its way first to the old king even before his son could write him. The said bad news was, indeed, lying on top of his polished oak table just now. 

More trouble was about to come. The king had to see to it. From the vast glass window overlooking the courtyard below, he could see his son's steed cantering to a halt. Even before the prince could get down from his saddle, the king could see a page running over to him.

_Drastic measures are necessary_, thought the old king grimly. Even his son would not dare refuse to obey a Royal Command.

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            Miroku sighed as he mounted the stone steps leading to his father's study. 

            _"His majesty has requested the presence of Your Highness…" _The page had said in trembling tones, and Miroku had felt vaguely sorry for him. 

Of course, everyone was afraid of his father. He himself knew there were certain times when it was better not to cross the old king's path, but they had been over this routine a thousand times for it to have any effect on him now.

            Still, he had a valid reason why he couldn't propose to the Princess. His father needed to know. Better now than any other time.

            And with that, he gave the closed door of his father's study a few, respectful raps before ushering himself in.

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            "What is wrong with her this time?" snapped the old king as way of greeting as soon as Miroku stepped into his study.

            "And greetings to you too, Father," he said pleasantly.

            "Well?! What is it now? Was her nose off-center or was it a bad ankle again?" Stormed the king.

            Miroku stared at his father for a minute, masterfully suppressing the urge to laugh. "No," he said seriously. "Nothing was wrong with Princess Kagome. In fact, she was quite beautiful--"

            "So why this letter?" shouted the king as he grabbed at the offending piece of writing from his desk and shook it in front of his son's face. _"'It was an honor for us to receive your son as our guest…'__?" Why this standard, customary thank you note and not anything grander?"_

            "Because," said Miroku patiently, "it's not going to happen between Princess Kagome and myself. She has already chosen somebody else."

            "Chosen somebody else?" echoed the king faintly.

            Miroku nodded. "She's going to marry that white-haired Prince from the western kingdom," he said. "The second son."

            "I-Inu Yasha…?"

            "Exactly. They plan to break the news sometime today," said Miroku, taking advantage of his father's lapse into shock and heading toward the crackling flames in the fireplace to warm his chilled hands. "I'm sure you will be getting their wedding announcement soon."

            The king recovered quickly enough and shock gave way to indignant sputtering.

            "B-but, Prince Inu Yasha is only a second son! I would have understood it more if she were to choose the Crown Prince Sesshou …!" The king stopped as a thought sank in.

            "Now wait just a minute here, boy," growled the king. "Did you, by any chance, clarify to Princess Kagome and her parents why you visited her in the first place?"

            A nerve broke out from his temple as he correctly interpreted his son's silence. "Well, why didn't you tell them?" He shouted.

            "And ruin a happy match?" Miroku asked, a straight brow raised. "Really now, Father. Do you think me that desperate?"

            "You may not be desperate," shouted the king, "but I am! By God, I swear you will not set foot back in this kingdom as long as you do not bring home a bride! Do you hear me?! By Royal Command, you are banished from this kingdom until you do as I say!"

            Miroku stood there, debating whether to take his father's words seriously or not, when the wadded piece of royal stationery from Princess Kagome's parents hit him square on the face and landed on the carpet below.

            _Okay. Things are getting out of hand here…_thought Miroku. Before he could say or do anything, the king had uttered the last word.

            "Now, get on with your Royal Tour," growled his father.

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**More Notes:** Well, this didn't exactly happen in the fairy tale, but it's one way of forcing Miroku to start his quest, ne?^^ Reviews are greatly appreciated.


	2. Peril in the Forest

The Riddle

By

Nana

Chapter 2

Peril in the Forest

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Author's Notes: Fairy tales are remarkable because they have the ability to induce this transient suspension of disbelief in the reader. Literary license has never been more evident in any body of writing as the fairy tale.

              "The Riddle" is a fine example of a piece of writing incorporating heavy use of literary license. The details may not always make sense, but hey, that's what makes Happily Ever Afters extra special, ne?^^ Anyways, just warning you guys that a highly improbable and illogical situation is coming up for our heroes (but it will all make sense later^^), all based on the fairy tale. Enjoy! R&R very welcome.

Disclaimer: "The Riddle" belongs to the Brothers Grimm, and Miroku and Hachi belong to Rumiko Takahashi. This fic is made for Sango-sama's Fractured Feudal Fairy Tales Challenge.

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"Your Highness," wheezed Hachi after a long period of silence, "forgive me for saying this, but I think we're really lost!"

              Miroku sighed as he finally allowed his horse to slow down and finally stop. Even if Hachi had not bothered to voice out his observation, it didn't take a genius to figure out that they had been lost in the deep, dark woods for well over two hours now.

              They should have known not to take any shortcut into the woods to get to the nearest city beyond it, especially when the day was already near its end. It had been a mistake to heed the advice of a traveling merchant they had met earlier on the road.

              In fact, this whole Royal Tour had been a mistake from the very beginning, thought the Prince as he got down from the saddle. It had been a mistake on his part to underestimate his father's wrath, and it had been a mistake on his father's side to toss him out without bothering to have his secretary arrange the Tour in a suitable fashion fit for a Prince. All he had as evidence that he was his father's son was a short, hurriedly written letter--just in case a head of state would demand valid identification.

Now, he was reduced to the station of an obscure, richly attired vagabond wandering without aim throughout the kingdom and beyond—a moving target for  robbers and mischief of all kinds.

              Still, he had a nasty feeling this was his father's way of punishing him. In fact, he had only been allowed one servant to tag along with him in order to meet his every need; in the end, he had picked his own faithful personal servant, Hachi to accompany him.

              What now? Thought Miroku, surveying the scene before them as night took hold of the land on swift wings. They had penetrated deep into the heart of the forest. They had reached a clearing where the trees gave way to a small, gurgling stream. Even so, the beauty of the place was tainted with shadows—too many shadows all around, hovering, vaguely menacing.

              He shook off the curious feeling of unease and said, "Well, Hachi, it's quite apparent we'll just have to camp out here for the night."

              Hachi winced as he got down from his horse. "Yes, Your Highness," he said, sighing. "I suppose you're right. I'd better start looking for some dinner, then…"

              He stopped, shivering.

              "What is it?"

              Hachi shook his head. "It's…it's nothing," he said. "It's just that…well, this place gives me the creeps."

              Miroku laughed, and suddenly checked himself when they heard the faint howl of a wolf.

              _Wolves…_

              The woods were certainly no place to camp out, but the Prince was used to more dangerous situations than a pack of wolves. Still, it would be very ideal indeed if they were just able to avoid messing with the creatures as a whole…

              "Go on," he urged Hachi. "I'll stay and look after the horses."

              After Hachi had gone, Miroku sat for a while near the stream and let his tired mind wander as he watched the horses graze.

              Well, here he was, in the middle of nowhere, banished from home for defying his own father. Perhaps it would be easier if he just gave in to his father's wishes. After all, he was only being asked to pick a bride from a legion of eligible princesses and noble court ladies. It's not as though he were being asked to give up an arm and a leg.

              And there were so many lovely ladies to choose from.

              The thought of meeting a fair damsel for the first time was always exciting (and there were lots of these situations presenting themselves), but the Prince invariably felt himself mentally signing off each time he got to know the lady well enough.

              He could not help feeling like this, and although he had tried to overcome it, the mood would just sweep over him and the romance would come screeching to a halt then and there. The rationalization part would come in, and he would find some consolation in the thought that he was doing the right thing.

              After all, how could he expect to live a life of Happily Ever After with a bride whom he had no real feelings for?

              What was the matter with him? What was he looking for? 

              Whatever it was, it was very clear he had not found it yet.

              Miroku snapped out of his reveries as he heard rustling sounds from the nearby shrubs and underbrush. The plants parted and gave way to a young girl.

              She was dressed in a simple gray frock, her hair neatly rolled up and covered with a plain cloth turban. She was carrying a bucket, and was heading straight to the other side of the stream without noticing Miroku.

              The Prince stared, not quite sure if he could believe what he was seeing. Was this being an apparition? Could she be what she appeared to be—a simple village maid no older than thirteen, fourteen years—or was she a malign spirit with the ability to take on the form of the living?

              Whatever she was, instinct prompted Miroku to greet her out of courtesy.

              "Good evening," he called, and saw the girl start at the sound of his voice. The water she had collected with her bucket fell from her hands and spilled its contents on the grass at her feet. 

She didn't look like an evil spirit.

              "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't see you," she said, retrieving the bucket from the ground.

              "Here, let me help you," he said as he took hold of the container and refilled it from the stream. "I thought I wasn't going to see a human face anywhere around here. I'm really glad to know otherwise. What is your name?"

              "Koharu."

              "Koharu. That's a pretty name. Do you live near here?"

              She tucked away a stray wisp of hair that had fallen from her turban and her eyes were suddenly wary. "Yes. In fact, the cottage where my stepmother and I live is just a short walk away from here," she said.

              Even as Miroku wondered at the uncomfortable tone of her voice, he pressed on, "I'm really sorry to ask this much from you so soon, but you see, my servant and I lost our way earlier on. Do you think we can spend the night in your cottage? We are ready to shoulder the compensation, it's really no problem—"

              "Why, yes," said Koharu sadly, "you certainly can spend the night with us, and please don't worry about paying, but…"

              "But--?"

              Koharu bit her lip before continuing, "I wouldn't advise it. Please, for your own sake, don't go."

              "Why not?" Miroku had to admit he was intrigued.

              Koharu sighed and said softly, "My stepmother practices the evil arts and is not well-disposed toward strangers. I fear for your safety."

              Curioser and curioser!

              Hachi certainly had cause to be afraid of this part of the woods, as the cottage the girl had mentioned was inhabited by a creature no less than a witch.

              But it was already getting too dark and cold out. Witch or no witch, Miroku thought it was so much better to brave the perils under the roof of a witch than to do battle with the elements at night. 

              Having made up his mind, Miroku grasped the young girl's hands in his and said, "We'll risk it. Will you take us in?"

              Koharu looked down at the hands that clasped hers. "Oh. All right," she said as a slow blush crept to her pale cheeks.

              "Y—Your Highness!" screeched Hachi as he came bursting in from behind them. "I'm so sorry. I have not been able to find—"

              He stopped when he saw the girl beside his master.

              "That's all right, Hachi," said Miroku as he turned to his servant. "Koharu has been kind enough to house us for the night."

              As they walked back to the cottage, Koharu began to fill them in on her warnings.

              "She will offer you something to eat and drink. Please make sure not to take in anything. She specializes in brewing poisons," she said.

              Miroku ignored the steadily widening gaze of his servant, and said, "Thanks for the warning. I shall certainly keep that in mind."

              And sure enough, a cottage was soon in sight. They could see wisps of smoke trailing up from the small chimney.

              Inside the witch's hut, a strong odor of herbs permeated every corner.

              The old woman herself was seated in a small wooden chair by the fireside.

              "Koharu, what took you so long in getting that pail of water?" was her greeting to the girl the moment they entered.

              Koharu murmured her apologies and advancing to the side of her stepmother, whispered something in her ear. The old woman turned quickly toward the strangers, startled by her stepdaughter's news that they had guests.

              Her bloodshot eyes crinkled and a wide, unpleasant grin spread across her wide lips when she beheld the two newcomers.

              "Welcome to our humble abode," she said in a voice. "You' re just in time for some dinner. Come sit and warm yourselves."

              She got up and stirred the contents of the small pot in the fireplace.

              "Good evening, madam," said Miroku gravely. "Thank you very much for your kind invitation, but unfortunately, we have already eaten."

              This said after he delivered a swift and deliberate elbow punch at Hachi's stomach, which had just then betrayed its condition by growling.

              "Oh really. How very unfortunate. Would you care for some wine then?"

              "No, thank you."

              "Tea?"

              "We've had a long day. It would be really wonderful if we could catch some sleep now." Miroku tried to water down the bluntness of his reply with a smile.

              The smile waned a little from the old woman's face. She shrugged, as if to indicate she couldn't care less. "Suit yourself," she said as she turned back to the fire.

              "Just stay alert, Hachi, in case she tries anything," muttered Miroku from a corner of his mouth as Koharu led them to their room.

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              By morning, she didn't try anything, and they were only too glad to be on the way again. They made haste to leave before the old witch could find out.

              As Miroku mounted his horse, he turned to Koharu. "Come with us," he urged. "We can take you anywhere you want to go."

              Koharu shook her head. "I can't. Stepmother has seen to it that I will remain by her side for as long as she lives. It is the only way I will be safe."

              Miroku fell silent as the implication of her words became clear. Certainly, the witch had the means at her disposal to find out where Koharu had gone and track her down. And then what? He was not sure if he could protect her when the time came.

              Just then, they could hear the old crone calling from within the house.

              "I must go," Koharu said urgently. "Please don't worry about me; I will be safe with her. Just go."

              Before she could rush back into the house, Miroku got hold of her hand and, pressing a quick kiss on it, said, "We are grateful."

              When she had gone, Miroku turned to Hachi. "What's wrong?" he asked a bit sharply as Hachi tried to lock his saddle onto his horse in vain.

              "Your Highness…my saddle! Somebody's destroyed the clasp!"

              Before he could say anymore, though, they could see the old woman running out of the house. It was all they could do not to run for it.

              "Don't you have the decency to say your farewells properly to the head of the house?" She yelled at them.

              "Our apologies, Madam, but—"

              "Just wait a minute! I want to give you a parting drink!" With that, she stopped and ran back into the house.

              "Go, Your Highness! I will catch up!" Hachi said as he desperately tried to tie the ends of the saddle around his horse.

              Without another word, Miroku took off.

              Hachi was still at it when the old crone came back with a steaming goblet. "Where is your master?" she asked as she ran over with the drink. "Bring this to him!"

              Before she could reach him, though, her legs gave way as she tripped on her skirts. Hachi watched, terrified, as the liquid flew out of the goblet in a fine arc through the air. 

It missed him by mere centimeters, but there was no preventing his steed from getting splattered with the lethal liquid as it came down on the animal.

Instantly, his horse collapsed on the ground in wild contortions. Within seconds, it was dead. 

Hachi did not hesitate. He bolted.

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              At the end of forest path leading away from the dreadful cottage, Miroku waited.

              Soon, he could see Hachi's rotund shape making its way over to him at incredible speed.

              "Y-Your Highness!" He panted as he reached Miroku.

              "Where's your horse?!"

              "It—that drink! It was poison—my horse got splattered—died instantly—"

              "Come on. We don't have a moment to lose," Miroku said as he yanked at his horse's harness.

              "B-but my saddle! Our provisions!" Hachi suddenly remembered the things he had left behind in his panic to get away.

              "Leave them!" commanded Miroku. "Hachi--!"

              Before he could say more, Hachi had turned back and was retracing his steps toward the cottage.

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              When he finally got back, not a soul was in sight outside the house.

              His poor horse was still there in the place where it had fallen. Smelling the unmistakable stench of death, a raven had already come to partake of its meat. It was so greedy it had not bothered to fly away from Hachi as he got close.

              Hachi hastily retrieved the bags and his damaged saddle, and almost as an after thought, decided to kill the bird that had been gorging on his horse.

              "Who knows when and where our last meal's going to come from," muttered Hachi as he stuffed the raven into one of the bags. "You'll come in handy then, my friend."   

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	3. More Perils

**The Riddle**

By

Nana

Chapter 3

**More Perils**

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**Author's Notes: ** WAI!!! Do you know that the original story by the Brothers Grimm is only five pages long?! Hehehe…I am having fun stretching the story a bit, though (especially in the next chapters!). I hope you guys enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.

**Disclaimer: **The Riddle belongs to the Brothers Grimm, and Rumiko Takahashi owns MiroSan.

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            At last they left the forest behind them and continued along the path to the nearest city—the capital of the Southern Kingdom. As soon as they left the gloom of the wood behind, they felt their spirits lift considerably.

            "That girl Koharu…" Hachi heard his master trail off pensively.

            "Your Highness, I'm sure she's right when she says that old crone won't harm her or anything," said Hachi with as much cheer as he could muster. "After all, what good would it do that witch if she killed off her only companion? I doubt if she could rely on anybody else for her errands."

            "You're right. Still…"

            _Still what?_ Thought Miroku. Even if he were able to bring her off with him, what made him so sure he could protect her?

            And so he let the matter drop.

            They were fortunate enough to be able to stop by a friendly inn for a hearty lunch. Much to their surprise, even though the sun was still riding high in the sky, they were advised to stay on until the next day (there were no more inns along the way until they reached the kingdom proper), but they decided not to linger in order for them to save time and reach their destination as soon as possible.

            "You know," said the inn keeper a bit confidentially when they were ready to go, "you should really consider just staying for the night, even if it might mean delaying your trip for a bit."

            "Why so?" asked Miroku, interested.

            "This is bandit territory, you know," replied the innkeeper. "They've been especially active this year. Nine incidents this month alone. Unfortunately, their victims never lived to tell their story."

            The innkeeper proceeded to tell them how bodies, shorn of all their earthly possessions, had been turning up on roadsides with increasing regularity. The thieves had never been caught.

            "And they don't just limit their scope on material things. Rumor has it they've kidnapped a girl and now they're waiting for her poor father to pay the ransom," said the innkeeper as he shook his head. "I wouldn't be surprised if she turns up by the roadside soon."

            But as the story went, the Prince and his servant decided to ignore the warning and continued with their journey.

            While there were no more woods for one to get lost into, the road remained long and tortuous. Much to their dismay, they found that they were still on the road by nightfall—the only travelers on a lonely stretch of vacant road illuminated by moonlight.

            At least this time, Hachi was confident that they would not go hungry. "Don't worry, Your Highness," he said, patting his backpack reassuringly. "I have come prepared with some food."

            Miroku smiled, only half of his attention on his servant. "I don't know, Hachi," the Prince said as he stood up on his stirrups, "I seem to be able to make out some light from the distance."

            True enough, a faint twinkle of light could be seen across the stretch of desolate road, and they raced toward it. Pretty soon, they found themselves in front of a two-story stone house.

            Warm light poured out from the windows, and inside, they could hear a burst of laughter.

            "Hmm…the inn people certainly never mentioned this," said Miroku as he got down from his saddle.

            "Maybe it's—it's some sort of private residence," said Hachi uncertainly.

            "Maybe," murmured Miroku. At any rate, asking for a place to stay for the night would be the most feasible thing to do, given any residence one stumbled into.

            "That's a big family they've got in there," he observed as he knocked on the door.

            The sound of laughter suddenly stopped inside. After a while, after Miroku repeated his knock, the door cautiously opened by a fraction and the Prince found himself staring at a distinctly gnarled, oily face, partially hidden from view by the great oak door.

            "What do you want?" snapped the face as it peered at him suspiciously.

            "Good evening," Miroku began. "Forgive our intrusion at this ungodly hour. We are travelers from far away and were unfortunate enough to be still on the road when night caught up with us."

            The face waited.

            Taking this as a sign to continue, Miroku obliged. "I was wondering if you would be so kind as to put us up for the night. Do you have some rooms?"

            The face was regarding him in a new light. "That depends" it said as it assessed the Prince from head to toe. "We have a rate, you know."

            "I'm sure payment won't be a problem," assured the Prince. "We're ready to pay for our board." 

            The door opened further, and they saw the rest of the little man with the unpleasant visage. "Come in then," he said.

            As they stepped into the warm parlor, the man who had let them in turned to a group of men huddling over their drinks, and said, "boarders."

            Hachi stared at the man, wondering at the way he made the single word sound as though it had a different meaning behind it.

            "Boarders," repeated a burly fellow, a corner of his grisly beard going up as though he found the notion quite amusing. He turned to Miroku. "How much can you afford?"

            "That really depends on how much you guys charge for a night, don't you think?" the Prince returned pleasantly.  

            Miroku made no indication if he were aware of the fleeting look of shuttered understanding that went through the faces in the room; nor did he seem to notice the way they were looking at him—at his serene, even features, the smooth, rich lines of his clothes. On the other hand, Hachi noticed, and he was suddenly afraid. 

            "There'll be plenty of time to discuss the rate, stranger," said the first fellow as he stepped in front of the newcomers. "We're short on food for guests, though. Do you have any provisions with you?"

            Hachi stepped forward and showed him the fowl he had in his backpack.

            "Excellent!" said the old man, clasping his hands in front of him greedily. "Bring it to our cook and she'll know what to do with it."

            As Miroku was being shown to their room, Hachi made a detour to the kitchens. He found the cook easily; she was the only one there, huddled in front of the hearth.

            He deposited the bird on the table with instructions to make dinner, and was surprised to find the girl clutching at his sleeve when he turned to go.

            "Save me," she whispered.

            Hachi stared at her with wide eyes. Before he could say anything though, she had turned back to the table and began to pluck the feathers from the raven.

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            They stared at the portly figure of the servant as he left the kitchens in a fluster and headed up the stairs to attend to his master. They made sure he was already inside their rooms before they began to talk among themselves.

            "Easy enough—"

            "Seems to be really rich—"

            "Kill them when they get down—"

            Even as Hachi helped his master to settle down upstairs, little did he know that the den of thieves downstairs were already preparing their own special welcome for any traveler unwise enough to step into their parlor.

            But first, some dinner.

            Before the guests could even come down, the men were already helping themselves to the steaming stew their captive cook had brought out from the kitchens. 

            Raven stew was not exactly the best thing on the menu, but beggars couldn't be choosers, especially when the meal—and everything else that was to come later—were free pickings.

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            Miroku listened carefully to what Hachi had to say about the girl in the kitchens before he stood up.

            "Your Highness," whimpered Hachi. "There are twelve of them down there, and—and—"

            "I know," the Prince said quietly as he patted the sword he had slung on his hip.

            Two against twelve was an unfair number, but that was the hand that they were dealt with. Upon stepping into the parlor, Miroku realized that they were in deep trouble. Without their knowing it until it was too late, they had stepped into the den of thieves they had been warned about earlier in the day. 

He knew there was nothing he could do except to stall and bargain for more time, rather than having those criminals at their throats immediately.

            There was another problem: the girl in the kitchen…

            Time was running out. They could not stay inside the room forever.

            "Ready?" said Miroku, a hand on the doorknob.

            Hachi swallowed hard and nodded, a pudgy hand on the hilt of his own sword.

            A surprise met them as they crept out into the landing of the second floor.

            Silence—absolute silence—met them from below.

            "What the hell--?" mouthed Miroku as he stood with his back to the wall. Cautiously, he peered down at the parlor, and a curious sight met him.

            The twelve men were slumped on the tables in varying angles, bowls of soup toppled to the floor or still steaming beside them. The cook stood there, surveying the scene in shock.

            "What happened?" Miroku asked as he quickly made his way down.

            "I—I don't know, my lord," stammered the cook. "They were eating out of the bowls when they just—collapsed."

            Miroku took the ladle from her and examined the contents of her cauldron.

            "It was the raven your servant handed me in the kitchen," explained the cook as she watched the Prince examine the meat in the soup.

            "Hachi," he said softly. "You told me you caught the raven, but you never told me where you got it from."

            "When I got back to that witch's hut, I found it eating off my horse, Your Highness," said Hachi.

            "You mean, it was eating off your _poisoned_ horse," clarified Miroku.

            "Yes, Your Highness."

            The Prince put down the ladle. He could not seem to be able to get his brows down. "And this," he said quietly," was what you intended us to eat earlier on?"

            Hachi grinned weakly.

            Miroku sighed. Well, he couldn't expect Hachi to be perfect, could he?

"No matter," he said, a reluctant smile crossing his face. "What's important is we never had a chance to sample it. On the other hand, this extraordinary piece of luck has saved us from a great deal of trouble, don't you think?"

***********************************

            It took a while, but they were finally able to put the whole thing behind them. After they had deposited the girl safely back to her family, they were able to go about their way again. In no time at all, they found themselves outside the gates of the Southern Kingdom.

            "At long last!" exclaimed Hachi. "Civilization!"

            Miroku had to smile at the relief in Hachi's voice. After what they had gone through, he himself was looking forward to some rest and relaxation.

            It was quite a comfort actually, to be able to arrive and see that things were just as he had remembered them. The same white, pristine walls greeted them on the outside. If his memory served him correctly, what lay inside would prove to be even grander.

            He had been to the Southern Kingdom as a child; his parents had taken him along to take part in the celebration of a royal birth. The baby was a princess, as far as he could recall.

            That was sixteen years ago. Even though the Southern Kingdom had maintained cordial relations with his, the ties were distant. He could only hope the King would still recognize him and accept him for who he would claim he was. Right now, though—

            "Are you just going to stay there the whole day or would you at least stand aside and allow people to get through?" asked a voice dryly behind them.

            Miroku turned around and saw her. And found that he could not look away.

            Little did he know that he was looking upon the worst peril to beset him and his quest yet.

************************************

            ****


	4. Invitation

The Riddle

By

Nana

Chapter 4

** Invitation**

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**Author's Notes: **Hehehe…after all those chapters, MiroSan fun begins here, folks! Please do read and review!

**Disclaimer: **The plot of the story is from the story by the Bothers Grimm. MiroSan belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.

********************************************

            "Are you just going to stay there the whole day or would you at least stand aside and allow people to get through?" asked a voice dryly behind them.

            Miroku turned around and saw her. And found that he could not look away.

            In the light of the early morning sun, peril had found its way to him in the shape of a lovely woman astride a horse. Of course, he had not realized this yet.

            All he saw in front of him was a young woman with her hair unconventionally tied up behind her in a ponytail, wearing a cloak the color of gray mist. Below the cloak, though, he could see that she had donned on a hunter's close-fitting garb, clearly showing the curves and lines of a tall, graceful figure. 

            His scrutiny was abruptly interrupted when the woman said sharply, "and what are you looking at?!"

            His eyes snapped back up to hers, and if he were embarrassed at being caught staring, his face and manner did not reveal it. "Forgive me for being in your way, madam, " he began.

            He felt her look at his face searchingly. "You are travelers," she observed.

            Miroku looked at Hachi. "Indeed we are," he said.

            "I've never seen you before. Why have you come to this kingdom?" she asked. "Are you here for business?"

            "Oh, no," laughed Miroku. "We--"

            Instantly, he felt he had said something wrong. The woman before them suddenly frowned as she took in his attire more closely.

            "Are you a nobleman of some sort?" she asked softly, dangerously.

            "Well, you can put it that way--"

            "If you're here for what I think you're here for," she said, her tone very cold, "let me advise you not waste your time. There had been one too many executions already, as it is."

            _Huh?_

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow you," began Miroku, but the woman had had enough of him.

"You will know soon enough," she said as she touched her whip to her horse. 

"What was that all about?" asked Hachi after she had gone.

"I have no idea," said Miroku, feeling a surge of reluctant interest at the lady's cryptic remark. "But I have a feeling that we will soon find out."

********************************

                     The Southern Kingdom had been just as he had remembered it. 

                     As they rode past the colorful bazaars of the marketplace, past the town square and the quiet, tree-lined avenues of the village residences, they soon found themselves before the majestic castle of the Southern King. 

                     Throughout the short ride to the castle, he found himself carefully keeping a lookout for the girl. He never found her again.

                     _Pity…_He thought. P_erhaps next time…?_

                     "Y-your Highness, do you really think they'll recognize you?" asked Hachi uncertainly as Miroku announced himself to the palace guards.

                     "There's only one way to find out," said Miroku as a flustered guard ran in to announce who was at the gates.

*********************************

                     Things were turning out unexpectedly well. 

                     The King had no trouble recognizing and welcoming him into his castle, and barely spared the letter in the Prince's hand a cursory glance.

                     "How you've grown," the king told him warmly after they exchanged the customary greetings. "How old were you when you were here last?"

                     "Three years old," Miroku murmured.

                     "That long ago, eh?" laughed the King. "Well, you look just like the way I have imagined you will when you grow up!"

                     After they had been shown to their rooms and had had a bit of time to settle down, the King asked for Miroku to join his family for lunch.

                     "Your father and I have kept in touch quite regularly," he informed Miroku. "He should have written to tell me you were arriving!"

                     Miroku merely smiled, not bothering to tell him the exact reason why he was here in the first place. It had not been by his--or anybody's--conscious design, but the Southern King need not know about this minor detail.

                     As his family slowly gathered in the dining room, the King leaned in and asked, "by the way, I've not heard you were married."

                     "No, I'm not, Your Majesty," Miroku said with a smile.

                     "Excellent!" the King seemed pleased by his answer. "There is somebody I'd like you to meet."

                     Just then, they could hear voices as the King's children approached.

                     "…wants to introduce us to an important guest, sis," a boy's voice sounded.

                     "I can just imagine," replied a woman's voice archly.

                     Miroku stared at the corridor where the owners of the voices were approaching, feeling his heart take on a sudden, strange beat.

                     _That voice_. 

                     It was terribly familiar…

                     And there she was, materializing from the shadows of the corridor, looking just like how he had seen her that morning. Only, her hair was now down and she was wearing a dress of pink and red.

                     Apparently, he was not the only one who still had the morning's encounter in mind. The princess stopped in mid-sentence when she saw him. For a moment, she stood there at the entrance of the dining room.

                     "You," she said as way of greeting.

*******************************

                     "Well," said the King, smiling. "I didn't realize you two have met."

                     "The…Princess and I met outside the gates of the kingdom this morning, Your Majesty," said Miroku. He said this as he looked at her direction.

                     Inwardly, he smiled as he saw her avert her suddenly flushed face.

                     She looked so pretty, standing there and scowling. How would she look if she were smiling?

                     "Oh?" the King turned to his daughter. "You never told me the Prince of the Northern Kingdom was in front of our gates."

                     The effect of those words was very interesting, to say the very least. Miroku watched curiously as the color first drained from the princess's face before it came back to her features in a rush.

                     "I… didn't know he's the Prince of the Northern Kingdom, Father," replied the Princess once she found her voice. "He never introduced himself as such."

                     "Indeed, we never got introduced properly," murmured Miroku as he took a step toward her. Before she could back away, he took her hand firmly in his and did not let go even as he felt her start at his touch. Raising it to his lips, he dropped a quick kiss on her knuckles and released her when she snatched her hand back.

                     "My daughter, Sango. My son, Kohaku," said the King briskly. "Everyone, this is Prince Miroku, from the Northern Kingdom. His father and I are good friends."

                     "I told you not to pursue this," she said to Miroku fiercely.

                     "Sango…" her father began mournfully.

                     "The stakes are too high, so don't even trouble yourself," she continued.

                     "I'm sure they are," said Miroku with a bland smile, "if I know what to make of the whole thing first."

                     Sango stopped abruptly.

                     "You mean…you've not heard?" asked the King hopefully.

                     Miroku shook his head.

                     "Well! Let's have lunch first, shall we?" asked the sovereign cheerfully.

                     Lunch was a long affair, and the King did not permit any further discussion of the matter. It was only afterward, in the privacy of his study room and away from any possible intervention by his daughter, that he got down to telling the prince of a strange tale involving Sango.

                     "Sango is a good girl at heart," sighed the King, "but you must understand that Kohaku came to us rather late. For many years, we have accepted the fact that Sango would be the heir-apparent to the Kingdom. Her education was started at an early age, and she had loved to read ever since she was a child, so…"

                     The King paused as he stared at the wisp of smoke curling up from his cigar. "Don't mistake me," he told Miroku, who was patiently waiting for him to continue. "I appreciate my daughter's quick wit. She's very intelligent, very well read. Right now, though, I never realized that all that intelligence would become a problem."

                     "Why so, Your Majesty?"

                     "It's time for my daughter to marry," said the King. "She's already sixteen. She's not getting any younger. Last year, I gave a party to celebrate her fifteenth birthday, and the trouble began when she started having suitors. She wouldn't have any of them. It's been hell for us all."

                     "Why not wait for her to decide on her own? Perhaps someday, somebody whom she likes will come along," said Miroku, who happened to understand the princess' plight all too well.

                     The king's look was full of bitter irony. "Do you honestly believe that, my friend?" he asked. "How long will she wait? Until she turns twenty? Thirty?"

                     Miroku opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again.

                     "I am only too aware that she's too well-read, too intelligent for her own good," said the King. "And I made the mistake of panicking and forcing the first serious suitor on her."

                     "What happened?" asked Miroku.

                     The king sighed heavily. "She was distressed, but she finally agreed on one condition."

                     "What condition is that?"

                     "That I agree to grant her one final wish. I took pity and told her so long as it was not a command to break off the engagement with the young man, I would give my word that I would honor it."

                     "And…?"

                     "She wished for a council hearing," said the King. "There she declared that she would marry anybody only if he had provided her with a riddle that she could not solve."

                     Miroku stared at the King for a moment, not quite sure what to say of the fact that the princess had outsmarted even her own father in this aspect.

                     "She's very commendable," he said at last.

                     "I gave my word as King, so I cannot take it back," said the king desperately. "Do you see my predicament?"

                     "I understand," said Miroku. "I take it nobody has been able to beat her at her game?"

                     "None, " replied the King. "What was more, whoever failed to beat her would be executed."

                     _So that's it…_Miroku thought grimly. Who would have thought that Princess Sango would have in her a streak as ruthless as this?

                     "Was it a successful deterrent?" he wanted to know.

                     "There had been nine who had lost their lives so far," answered the King. "The last one was executed only early this morning. I cannot do anything to stop it! I am at a loss! And this is where you come in, my son…"

                     _Wha--?_ Miroku nearly choked on his coffee.

         "I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?" He coughed.

         "Your father was always telling me in his letters how you were excelling in your studies and how extensively you've traveled," said the King eagerly. "I was just thinking about it the other day. If there's anyone who can win my daughter over, I'm sure it will be you!"

         "I am touched that Your Majesty thinks so very highly of me," began Miroku as he laughed weakly. "But you see, I'm not here to participate in any mind games. I didn't even know--"

"But you do now!" exclaimed the King.

Sweat broke out on Miroku's forehead even as he forced another laugh. "So it is, but would it be all right with your Majesty if I think the matter over?"

*************************

                     Sango quickly moved away from the door when she heard footsteps approaching the door from within her father's study. One glance at the vast expanse of corridor told her she would be caught if she had to run down its length, and so she took refuge behind a nearby pillar.

                     She had not been able to stop herself from listening in. This person was, after all, the notorious prince from the Northern Kingdom. 

                     Who would have thought in a million years that the handsome stranger she had met on the road earlier was none other than the playboy prince who had broken the hearts of some of her friends from afar? She had come to look forward to their stories about this loathsome creature, and had wondered once or twice what she would do if she had been in one of her friends' shoes.

                     And now, he was right here in her father's kingdom. She had thought she was going to pass out when she learned of his identity during lunch.

                     Well, at least he was showing some signs of being intelligent, she thought. Although she had to admit it was quite a novelty to her, the fact that the prince would dare put off the challenge of the riddle when her father had specifically asked him to take it up was pretty admirable.

                     So why was she feeling a bit…disappointed?

                     _Me… disappointed? _She scoffed at herself mentally. _Honestly! Where did that come from?_

                     The Prince soon emerged from her father's study, and she waited quietly for him to go away.

                     He didn't. 

                     Instead, she received an unpleasant jolt when he called out softly, "how much have you heard? A little, a lot or all of it?"

                     _Damn…how did he…?_

                     "What is it to you?" she asked as she revealed herself. "You said so yourself that you're not interested."

                     "Did I?"

                     Sango returned his volley effortlessly. "Are you saying you didn't?" she challenged.

                     "Outwitting your father is one thing. Why did you have to take your suitors' lives though?" he asked quietly.

                     "I didn't want to!" she flared. "I only made up that ruling as a way to discourage them, but the fools still kept coming."

                      "I should think the prize is quite tempting," said Miroku, and Sango flushed a deep red in front of his appraising gaze.

                     "Unfortunately, the _prize_--as you've put me--isn't so easy to get," she said. "Thank God you don't have to find out."

                     With that, she turned away with her head held high and left.

****************************

                     Miroku spent the rest of the afternoon with the Prime Minister as he led him on a tour of the castle.

                     "I can still remember the last time you came with your parents to visit Princess Sango," the Prime Minister was saying.

                     Miroku smiled absently. It seemed there was no avoiding the Princess, whether in his thoughts or in the general conversation around him.  In fact, it was all he could do not to try thinking about her for just a few minutes at a time.

                     "I'd say she's changed quite a lot since I last saw her," he said.

                     "Come now, Your Highness! She was only a baby then!"

                     "And is she always like this or is it just for possible suitors?" he found himself asking nonchalantly.

                     "The Princess," began the Prime Minister delicately, "is really very kind at heart, but she has a tendency to be a bit…well, choosy. You have to understand, Your Highness, that she has to be, given the precarious situation that she's in."

                     "And what position is that?"

                     "Suitors of all sorts have been turning up since she reached her fifteenth birthday. Everyone knows she won't ascend the throne, but she will be rich. Very much so. Her father wishes desperately for her to marry. Given these circumstances…"

                     "I think she's done very well in protecting herself," observed Miroku a bit dryly.

                     "I think she's done too well a job, if you don't mind my being frank, Your Highness," said Miroku's companion. "At this rate, I am afraid she will never get married."

                     They finally reached the castle's library.

                     "We are very proud of our collection," said the Prime Minister, smiling at the obvious delight of the prince as he moved to read some of the titles from the shelves. "The King and the Princess see to it that we update our titles regularly."

                     "Let me guess, this is her favorite room in the castle," Miroku murmured as he pulled off a rare book on Greek Mythology.

                     "Quite right," said a voice behind them.

                     The Prime Minister bowed deeply when the Princess emerged from one of the high chairs in a corner. "Your Highness!" he gasped, betraying his surprise. "We didn't see you."

                     "That," she said to him, "is pretty obvious."

                     She turned to the Prince. "I hear you like books?" she asked, an eyebrow up.

                     "I do."

                     "Really," she murmured. "They all say that, don't they?"

                     "They?" Miroku raised a fine brow. She never really quite got over classifying him as one of the hapless suitors, did she?

                     "I have yet to hear one of them say otherwise. In fact, they spend all their time here plaguing me about it when they could have indulged in what they purport to like doing. Most tedious."

                     "Well," Miroku said quite pleasantly. "Doesn't this make for a nice change?" 

                     Sango regarded him with a kindling eye before she gave him a brittle smile. "And what does that mean?" she asked.

                     "It means," he said, "whatever you want it to mean."

                     _Good God…is he playing with me? _For a minute the Princess could not speak.

                     "I think you understand the consequences of the challenge well enough is how I want it to mean," she finally said. "Don't you agree?"

                     "Do I?" he said. "Understand the consequences, I mean?"

                     Sango frowned.

                     "Well, don't you? Otherwise, you would have gone right on and thrown in your two cents worth into it," she said. "I think it's a pretty admirable move on your part not to--"

                     "What would it take to join the Riddle?" he asked. All of a sudden he did not want her to find him admirable. Not in her sense, anyway.

                     "Why would you want to know?" she asked suspiciously.

"The rules are simple enough," piped in the Prime Minister. "Present your riddle to the Princess in front of the court of judges appointed especially to the task. She will be given three days to figure it out. In the event that she does not succeed in arriving at the correct answer after three days--"

"That is not going to happen," cut in Sango curtly.

"Erm…right, Your Highness," agreed the man lamely. "And if she succeeds in solving your riddle, then--"

A short, heavy silence ensued. Miroku did not trouble to hide the fact that everyone knew the fate of the doomed suitor. Instead he raised his brows.

"You do realize that the latter part of your condition, should it be carried out if I were the participant, will jeopardize diplomatic relations between our two kingdoms?" he said gravely.

Sango was so surprised at his unexpected quip that she almost laughed.

Almost.

She smiled at him sweetly. "A risk you will have to take then, if you're really serious about entering into the agreement. You must remember that if you do give it, you will have to live up to your word just as a noble prince of any realm would.

"But then, no use talking about conjectures, right?" she continued dismissively as she turned away. "You're not going to take the challenge anyway."

Right then and there, Miroku reached a decision.

"Very well then," he said after a moment of silence. "If you really want me to join it so badly, then I accept."

"WHAT??!" 

Miroku's gaze was steady, serious. "Your invitation," he said to an outraged Sango. "Didn't you clearly issue one just now? I accept."

He turned to the Prime Minister. "How soon will the court be in session?"

"Why, I can arrange for a session tomorrow afternoon, Your Highness," said the Prime Minister as he recovered from his state of shock.

"Very well then," said Miroku.

"Wait a minute!" cried the princess just as Miroku was about to take leave of the room. "You cannot be serious!"

"Can't I?" the Prince asked softly, his violet eyes darkening just a shade as he frowned at her. "Rest assured I am ready to honor whatever outcome is at hand."

"You're just making a mockery of this whole thing!" accused Sango.

"It is a game of your own devising," he reminded her.

"It is no game!" she shouted. "And I never issued an invitation to you!"

"Didn't you?" he asked teasingly, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small, charming smile.

"I didn't!" she spat as another wave of outrage took over. 

Could it be…? Could it be that he was teasing her?!

_How dare he…! _Thought Sango angrily. 

"You're going to die if I get the answer to your riddle," argued Sango.

"What makes you think I'm going to lose?" he told her with a smile.

Sango refused to be deterred by his impossibly breezy claim.

"You're going to have to marry me if you win!" cried Sango as she repressed a shudder of revulsion. "Do you--can you understand the meaning of that consequence?!"

"Indeed. That would make for an interesting change," he murmured. "I'll see you in court."

*******************************


	5. Charades

**The Riddle**

By

Nana

Chapter 5

**Charades**

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**Author's Notes: **Roughly two more chapters to go and we're done! Reviews are very welcome!^^

**Disclaimer: **Based on "The Riddle" as told by the Brothers Grimm (with lots of additions on the side, of course). Sango and Miroku (as well as Kirara and Hachi) belong to Rumiko Takahashi.

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            The court was packed to the brim when it came into session the next day. The past nine sessions concerning the princess's affairs had drawn fewer and fewer crowds, especially since the sessions were brutally brief. This time, though, things were different.

            For one thing, the Prince of the Northern Kingdom was the one involved. Apparently, Princess Sango was not the only one who had heard rumors about him. The women had turned out in full force just to catch a glimpse of the dashing, mysterious blueblood who had been the key figure of many a romantic tale--told in hushed, excited voices within circles of ladies of the nobility.

            The men, on the other hand, were keen on finding out how the court was going to handle a possible diplomatic mess. Could the princess be bested (for surely there were a lot of the princess's admirers among the crowd who would not dare enter the challenge for fear of their lives, but were quite jealous and curious, nonetheless)? Or would she have her way, as usual? And if so, could the King really execute another kingdom's prince?

            "How long is this session going to take?" wondered one.

            "Hopefully longer than the forty-five seconds it took her to answer that last dolt's riddle," answered his companion.

            And so the afternoon's court was humming with barely suppressed excitement when the Prince carefully opened the oak side door a crack and took a peek.

            "Your Highness…" whimpered Hachi. "Can't we just postpone this interview? At least after we've thought the matter out further? Or…or at least after your father has been informed?"

            Apparently, Hachi was one of many who had thought the Prince was not in his right mind when he took the challenge. Nobody had believed it at first, but the Prince seemed serious in pursuing the matter. Of course, the Southern King had rejoiced, whether he thought the Prince was in his right state of mind or not. 

His daughter had not taken it well, to say the very least.

            Prince Miroku had left her in the library, her face pale with rage. Her visage certainly was not at its best then, so why was he still finding her incredibly fascinating?

            The thought that he had been able to get the last laugh yesterday had appealed to him greatly. Though he did not stop to think why, the prospect of meeting such a formidable woman for a round of mental calisthenics was so alluring that he could not resist maintaining his stance.

            Besides, he could not back out once he had given his word. A Prince of the Realm could not. But then there was no need to worry. There was no way she was going to be able to get his riddle. And so, he turned to Hachi and smiled serenely.

            "Relax," he said. "I have everything under control."

            "Do you?" said a voice behind him coldly.

            Miroku turned and smiled even more broadly as he said, "Good morning."

            Sango had arrived with a lady-in-waiting, dressed in a flowing garment the shade of subtle gold. Her favorite cloak of misty gray was draped around her shoulders. Her hair was down, and so were her brows.

            "You are going to waste your time and mine with this nonsense," she snapped. "And before you cause irreparable damage to diplomatic ties between our two kingdoms, let me urge you to think it over and cancel this whole charade while there's still time."

            "Charade?" Miroku echoed. "My dear Princess, I meant it when I said I intend to carry this out to its conclusion."

            "I can't believe this!" Sango cried, her cheeks staining pink. "And all the while I thought you'll come to your senses soon enough! Why would you want to risk your neck for a challenge that you've only been aware of since yesterday? Do you really think they're not going to execute you when I get the answer to your riddle?"

            "You won't," he assured her.

            Sango bit back a retort as she felt her face flame.

            _Fine. Be arrogant about the whole thing,_ she thought, firmly suppressing a wave of frustration and anger. 

            Perhaps it would be good to know his head would be rolling down soon.

            It was kind of a waste, though. He had quite a fine and handsome head about him, too.

            "Just be sure you don't go quoting anything silly from the books like the riddle of the Sphinx," said Sango as she reclaimed her composure. "The last suitor was foolish enough to do that."

            "All right," said Miroku easily. "Although I must admit I feel very flattered that you would be concerned enough to take the trouble to warn me. Rest assured, I will keep your advice in mind."

            For a moment, Sango felt that she was in danger of hyperventilating. _How dare he…!_

            Sango paused as an even more astounding thought sank in. _What is it about this man,_ she thought in a mixture of bewilderment and fury, _that he could effectively rob me of my speech?_

            Sango was aware that he was egging her on, and so she did not bother answering him. With a nod of dismissal, she turned to her lady-in-waiting. "We will see. Let's go, Kirara."

*******************************

            _This is getting to be definitely annoying,_ thought the Princess.

            The crowd had fallen silent as members of the court filed in. They had stood out of respect for royalty when she strode into the room. So what was this sudden, collective intake of breath from the audience when the Prince made his appearance? What did it mean to have some of the ladies squeal when they caught their first glimpse of him? The reaction he was eliciting from the crowd was something so new that Sango could not believe it.

            What was more, she was astounded as something sharp seemed to imbed and twist itself painfully around her heart when she saw him turn to the crowd and smile at the ladies.

            _What does it all mean?_

            Finally, the marshals managed to restore order and quiet all around, and the court went into session.

            They stood there, facing each other on separate podiums, he listening carefully as the judges read the conditions of the agreement he was about to enter, she unable to tear her gaze away from him--resenting him for his arrogance, his questionable morals, his utter magnificence as he stood before her in full dress uniform of black and violet.

            "…the contract is binding and made effective once the Prince voices his riddle to the Princess. The riddle must have a legitimate answer, and any form of assistance from anybody toward the arrival of said answer will not be tolerated. The Princess is allowed three days to consider the answer, after which the court will reconvene. During those three days, neither party will be allowed outside the Kingdom. Should the Riddle be answered beyond doubt before the three-day deliberation period…"

            On and on it went, the segment of law she had created out of sheer cunning to escape from the clutches of unwanted suitors.

            The last time there was a court session, the time it took for them to lay down the rules had lasted longer than the riddle of the doomed nobleman. Would the Prince go the same way of the foolhardy suitor by the time she was through with him?

            The thought made her uneasy, and she was about to turn away from it when she stopped.

            _What are you doing? _She suddenly asked herself. _You can't honestly mean to say you're actually worried about him?_

            _I am_ _NOT! _She thought, angrily thinking that the stupid things he had said earlier had somehow gotten to her, so much so that she was starting to doubt herself. _I will beat him at this!_

            With that, she turned her full attention as Miroku was finally allowed to voice out his riddle.

            "The Princess is, indeed, one of the most well-read people I've ever met," he began, "but I wonder if she can explain this? Can she name one who slew nobody but slew twelve?"

            The audience waited with bated breath.

            And the most incredible thing happened.

            One full minute passed. 

            Two.

            Ten minutes.

            "Your Highness?" asked one of the judges. All of them turned to Sango as one.

            _This is impossible…_thought Sango, dazed. She fought to keep the panic from showing.

            "Your honors," she said at last, "please allow the court to reconvene after I've…I've…"

            But she couldn't say it. She didn't need to. The court broke out into cheers as she finally conceded to a three-day period to work out the riddle's answer.

******************************

            As a gesture of thanksgiving that he had survived the round and as a means of introducing him to the noble court, the Southern King threw a ball for the Prince that very evening.  Sango's father was hugely pleased with the results of the first round. This was the first time in a long while that he had any reason to celebrate, and he made sure to pull out all the stops.

            Laughter, food and wine flowed freely and the waltzes were never-ending. All that time, Miroku had been introduced to one girl after another, had danced with all them in turn. As the music drew on, so did the list of ladies waiting for their chance with him.

            And so he did not notice the arrival of his possible fiancée. 

Sango had left the courthouse in a state of shock and had headed to the sanctuary of her library when she got back to the palace. There, she had immediately started her quest for the answer of the riddle.

As the hours drew on and the stack of books she had pulled out from the shelves gradually accumulated to fill the reading tables around her, Sango realized she was nowhere closer to an answer than she was a few hours ago. Also, she suddenly realized she was getting hungry.

To add to all the misery, she had called for food to be brought over only to have an unpleasant bit of news reach her. 

No, the King had expressly forbidden anyone in the castle to prepare and bring food over to her in the library. She was to attend the ball given in the Prince's honor if she wanted to eat anything.

And no, no amount of arguing would undo the Royal Command, so she had finally given in and grudgingly went down to the ballroom.

The page responsible for announcing the newcomers was about to shout her name when she bade him to stay silent. After all, the humiliation she had experienced during the afternoon had been enough. She was about to make her way over to the tables when a dancing figure cut across her gaze. Sango paused for a fraction of a moment as the figure finally registered in her brain.

There he was, dancing a waltz with his arm around a girl.  He had not seen her because he was too busy looking down at the lady. As Sango looked into his smiling face, something awoke from within her that made her appetite die.

Was it hunger that was making her feel suddenly ill? Was it something else? 

And why was she feeling pain? So much pain, blooming and spreading from her numbed heart. _Why?_

She had to get away…

Acting on that impulse, she turned and fled.

It was only when she got back to the library that she got a hold of herself. Why was she feeling as though she wanted to faint?

More than anything else now, she realized the importance of beating him at that riddle.

If the mere sight of him dancing with another girl could elicit this kind of reaction from her, the sooner he would be gone the better.

*******************************

Miroku was finally able to get away in the early morning hours when the music finally dwindled. He had already told Hachi to go ahead. An apple, picked from the remnants of the feast left on one of the tables, would be his servant's reward in preparing the sleeping chambers for him. 

As he left the ballroom and ascended the stairs to his suite of rooms, something from the dark corridor of the library made him pause when he got there.

Underneath its massive, closed doors, he could see a sliver of light from within the library. It was only then that he realized he had not seen the Princess throughout the entire evening.

Slowly, he walked toward the doors and, giving them a gentle push, noted that they were not locked.

She was still there, fast asleep over a book on the table. A cluster of books were open beside her, and more were to be seen on the chairs, the floor.

_What the--?_

Miroku approached her, careful not to make any sound. Had she stayed here the whole night?

A glance at the books she had pulled out told him what her purpose was. It seemed she had been busy analyzing his riddle, right down to consulting a book on dreams. The soft, gray mantle that she habitually wore over her garments lay forgotten on the floor. He retrieved the bit of cloth from the floor and, after a moment's hesitation, brought it down so it would settle on her shoulders.

The light touch woke her.

For one brief moment, she appeared confused as she felt for her wrap. She thought she had felt somebody touch her…or was it all part of her dream? And she was having a good one too…

All traces of sleep were dispelled the next second when she suddenly became aware that she was no longer alone. She leaped away from Miroku when her gaze landed on him. How long had he been standing beside her, looking down at her? How long had she been asleep?

"What are you doing here?" she managed to ask.

Miroku did not answer her. Instead, he asked, "Why weren't you at the party?"

Sango looked away. "Why would you care?" she asked, her tone full of bitter resentment. "It's not as though you'd notice or anything--"

Before she could say another word, her stomach growled.

Miroku stared at her suddenly red face, and said slowly, "and I see you've not eaten as well. No use torturing yourself like this, Sango."

He brought out the apple in his pocket. "Here," he said. "Take it."

Sango stared at the apple, wondering why she was suddenly feeling this overwhelming urge to cry. "Don't you dare pity me," she said softly.

From a corner of her eyes, she saw his mouth lift up a fraction. "A guy would be crazy to even attempt that," he said wryly.

Because she made no move to accept the fruit, he laid it down on the table. "Eat it and get some rest, Sango," he advised. "The riddle's not worth your missing any sleep. Besides, no amount of poring over the books would help."

As he moved toward the door, Sango called after him, "Why would you even care to come by just now?"

He did not say anything. He merely smiled at her as he let himself out.

Sango was too hungry not to give any attention to the apple. As she took her first, despairing bite of it, she thought ruefully how she got stuck with a guy who was pretty good at playing charades. If she weren't careful, she just might end up believing that this guy actually cared for her a little.

Thank God for all those stories about him, then…

As soon as she was able to think clearly again, she allowed herself to ponder over his words. 

_No amount of poring over the books would help…_

Was she supposed to take his word for it, or could he just be derailing her from her search? Something in his voice told her he was telling the truth, though. Meaning: he did not resort to a book for his riddle. Where did he base it from, then?

His travels. Past experiences. Those would have to be the key.

If so, she was in deep trouble. How was she going to pry that out from him? It's not as though he would volunteer the information freely.

That servant of his…perhaps he would know. She could try him…

No. There was no way he was going to talk freely, and the Prince would get suspicious. And if her father were to find out that she was actually spying around the Prince…

_How then…?_ She cast about for a way. There had got to be one…

Just then, her gaze landed on the book of dreams a few feet away from her, and a strange idea slowly began to take shape in her mind.

_Why not…?_ She thought as she moved to take the book. She flipped through the pages until she reached the chapter that she was looking for.

Well, this technique had certainly not been proven to be effective, but now was a good time to test the hypothesis as any. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

After a while, she rang the service bell for Lady Kirara.

*********************************


	6. Queries

**The Riddle **

_A Fairy Tale by the Brothers Grimm_

Chapter 6

Retold by 

Nana

**Queries**

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**Author's Notes: **This chapter begins immediately after Miroku left Sango in the library (during the first night), and will encompass the goings-on during the second night. The happenings during the third night and thereafter will have to be reserved for the next chapter. Thanks, Hentai Neko, for your interest in asking for clarification regarding this aspect of the story.^^

**Disclaimer: **The story concept of "The Riddle" belongs rightfully to the Brothers Grimm, and MiroSan, as well as Hachi, Kirara and Kohaku belong to Rumiko Takahashi. Please do read and review!

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            Miroku absently entered his suite of rooms, thinking that perhaps he had given too much away.

            The Princess was astute. Too astute. Who knows how far she could go with his words alone. He had not offered much as a clue, but then she may not need a lot of help. She seemed desperate enough to try anything.

            Although he gave himself no opportunity to actually think about it, he found her desperation a bit…disappointing. He had at first thought that she was merely being coy, that she actually wanted him to try out the Riddle even though she was saying the opposite thing out loud.

            Now, though, he wasn't so sure anymore.

After being in her company for two days, he realized that the Princess was incapable of being coy. Perhaps he had pushed things too far by initiating the court session on a mere presumption that she was egging him on--or was this simply his mind's ploy to make up a valid excuse so he could engage in his battle of wills with Sango?

Even during the last minute, self-preservation had kicked in and he had not told her the entire truth as to why he had posed his riddle. He had left Sango to think that he was only after the challenge. Perhaps it was much safer that way. For now.

Overall, he had to concede that if it boiled down to the essentials, _she_ was the greatest riddle of all--the fabled Sphinx that legends alluded to. Beautiful and terrible at the same time, how could one single girl hold so much complexity and allure? What was more, she seemed totally unaware of the stir she was causing within him.

 She wasn't exactly his type, so why this fascination? Were they really doomed to misunderstand each other? Perhaps he should have been more direct, but was it really so difficult to see that all he wanted to do was to get to know her better? Would she give him a chance at all?

Apparently not, and that one careless little statement he had given away in the library may just prove to be too much. Doubtless she would try something, and he did not want things to end too soon.

_What are you talking about?_ He asked himself. _She won't be able to get it. Nobody can! Not if Hachi and I don't talk!_

            Still, to be sure…

            His gaze landed on his manservant, who had just finished unrolling the blankets on the gigantic bed he was supposed to sleep in.

            "Hachi," he said. "I think we may have to change bed assignments for tonight."

**************************

            Lady Kirara was, first and foremost, entirely devoted to her mistress. That was the only reason why she would agree to do this most unusual task without question.

            It had worried her to see the Princess so distraught. When she had gone to answer her call in the library, the first thing Sango had told her was, "we mustn't let him win, Kirara."

            That was quite true.

            Lady Kirara was one of those who had stood within that crowded ballroom a few hours ago, and she had stared in disbelief as the Prince danced waltz after waltz away without so much as inquiring after the Princess.

            As she looked into her mistress's determined gaze, she could not help but agree that perhaps this match was not meant to be.

            "I think I've finally found a way toward solving the Prince's riddle," announced Sango as she gave the book over to her lady-in-waiting.

            "A book on dreams?" asked Kirara as she turned the pages over, not sure she understood.

            "He said he didn't lift his riddle from any book, so--"

            "The Prince…said that?"

            Sango turned away before Kirara could register the color on her cheeks. "He was here a while ago," she muttered.

            Much to her relief, Kirara did not think to ask further along that line.

            "So I was thinking, if he did not get the riddle from a book, he must have based it from personal experience. I'm sure consciously he would never part with the secret. Subconsciously though…"

            Kirara stared at her mistress and back at the book, wondering if sleep was all Sango needed.

            "He might be able to say something in his sleep. See here, we've got a whole chapter on that topic alone," Sango said excitedly, pointing at the volume. "Apparently, in one stage of sleep or another, the mind is susceptible to verbal suggestions and queries. It is known that some people divulge all sorts of information this way. What is more, they don't remember anything afterward."

            "Your Highness…"

            "Kirara…he's not the type for any decent girl. I think you know that," said Sango quietly.

            And so, Kirara had done what her mistress had bidden.

            It was a bold move, yes. If she got caught, the punishment would be drastic beyond measure, yes. But there was no other choice.

            As she reached the Prince's suite, Kirara deftly got out the key she had drawn unnoticed from the Master Utility Room, and prepared for a night of queries.

******************************

            The sleeping quarters of the Prince was bathed in moonlight. 

Kirara had no trouble finding the bed. The Prince's shape was nothing more than lumps under the thick blankets. As she approached, she could hear snores emanating from beneath the bed covers.

A faint frown creased her large, slanting eyes as the lady stooped to peer at a visible fraction of the sleeping occupant's head.

"Your Highness…" she began hesitantly.

The figure beneath the covers shifted. Kirara took a step back in alarm. She waited until the figure became still again.

_Something's not quite right here…_thought Kirara as she hesitantly put up a hand on the covers and attempted to pull them down a bit.

What happened next was so unexpected that it took all of the lady's self-possession, all her training in manners not to scream.

The figure, still swathed with the bedcovers from head to toe, suddenly sat up and, turning eerily to the stunned lady, uttered a single word.

"Boo."

Kirara turned and fled.

***************************

Sango listened to what Kirara had to tell her in the early morning hours marking the second day of her private purgatory, her face betraying nothing. After she finished, Sango merely said, "go on and get some sleep, Kirara. I will see you later."

With that, she went ahead with her daily morning ride.

What was it about stubborn, arrogant suitors who could not be shaken off? thought Sango as she tried to shake off the feel of impending disaster from her tired mind.

Kirara's report had not only been disappointing, it had been downright frightening.

Apparently, the Prince had been quite aware of a plan to infiltrate his quarters--henceforth this bad excuse for a practical joke. How he could have thought about it was beyond her, but a more pressing problem now was: would he tell?

The mere thought that he might spill the beans to her father was enough to make Sango grow cold. Of course, the King would want nothing better than to give her off at the earliest possible opportunity.

But would her father really marry her off to anyone who would ask for her hand? Just anyone? Even somebody who had the reputation of the Northern Prince's? Sango had never told anyone, but the lack of criteria in picking a possible husband for her had hurt, and so she had gone ahead and erected some.

Right now, though, it seemed as though the very plan she had concocted to protect herself was backfiring. It seemed as though the Riddle could easily filter in men with enough wit and intelligence, but it was never a test of men's virtue.

But was she really looking for that? A man of virtue? Was there really such a creature? Perhaps it was sheer myth--the stuff found in books. At any rate, her criteria in selecting men were not hard. All she ever wanted was somebody who could see her for what she was, love her for who she was.

Was that really too much to ask for?

_And is it too much to ask for a girl to carry on with her morning ride alone?_ she thought, feeling the familiar stab of annoyance and something else when she caught sight of  a black-clad figure on horseback a few hundred yards in front of her.

It was too late for her to turn back. The figure had already spotted her, was now waving at her. 

At the back of her mind, a thought bloomed: _What does he think he's doing?_ _How long has he been waiting here?_

            She frowned. That didn't come out right, did it? Of course he wasn't waiting for her. How could he possibly?

"Good morning," he called as soon as she was within hearing distance. "You're up pretty early. I trust you were able to sleep well?"

Sango looked up sharply at that. Apart from the slight flush brought on by a good ride, though, she saw nothing but bland politeness on his face.

_Don't play into his hand…_

"I slept well, thank you very much," she said with a civil tone. "You?"

"Like a log," he said with a grin. Before she could stop to put any meaning into that, he quickly added, "I'm glad you took my advice."

"What advice?" she asked suspiciously.

"My advice about your not losing any sleep over the Riddle," he said. 

Sango could not help frowning. Was it just coincidence, or was the word "sleep" merely a favorite word of his? For some weird reason it was finding its way into almost every sentence in this conversation and she didn't like it. 

"Why would you care if I lose sleep over it?" she asked, unable to stop herself from pursuing the matter.

He pulled his horse to a stop right beside her, and she found herself looking into his eyes-- a warm shade of lavender. "Is it so hard to believe that I would really care?" he answered enigmatically.

"Why?" she persisted.

"Would you really like to know?" he asked, smiling. "But then, you already do, don't you?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand you, sir," she said frigidly. All of a sudden she could not meet his gaze, and she dropped her eyes to the lower part of his face.

The wind must have been particularly cold that morning. His cheeks were quite flushed. She heard him say, "I think you do. You just don't want to accept it. Yet."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Has anyone ever told you you're amazingly disgusting?" she found herself telling him. 

"Am I?" he returned, amused.

"Yes, you are," she said briskly. "Secondly, are you managing to imply that the Riddle is not worth losing sleep over? Meaning it's not that important to you?"

"Are you saying it's important to you after all?" he threw back at her.

"I didn't say it wasn't," she said. "I'm fighting for my freedom here."

There was a pause as Miroku's smile wavered a little. 

"I see," he finally said. "It's admirable to see a woman going for what she wants with everything she's got. But you have to see, Sango, that in this case I'm going for what I want, too."

"Which is?"

His grin returned. "You really don't get it, do you?" He said softly before turning away.

_Damn and blast! What the hell just happened back there?_ He thought as soon as he was able to put some distance between them. What had made him do it?

In all his nineteen years, this had never happened to him before. He had been thinking of staging a little game with her, make her spin around a bit for sending her lady-in-waiting into his suite to hear him talk in his sleep. Lady Kirara had mistaken Hachi for him, and he had wanted to taunt her mistress with it. Only, things didn't go the way he had wanted them to.

To make matters worse, he had finally come across a girl who could make him blush. Imagine that.

****************************

            It seemed that the Prince was not going to spill the beans after all.

            He was at his best behavior throughout the whole morning, well into lunch and afterward. 

            His friendliness grated on her nerves. The King and Kohaku, on the other hand, were already considering him as part of the family. Shy as he was, Kohaku seemed remarkably open and at ease with him, and was continually asking him about his adventures.

            Despite her animosity, Sango found herself leaning in and listening to his stories, partly in the hopes that he might just drop a clue to his Riddle.  Of course, she took enough trouble to sit a great distance away and pretend that she was not interested.

            He had been careful to edit his words, of course.

            "Wow," said Kohaku when Miroku finished with his tale. "I'm pretty sure my sister will be quite safe with you around."

            Sango abruptly snapped shut the book in her hand, but before she could reprimand her younger brother, she heard Miroku say, "your sister…can see to herself well enough. I have complete confidence in her ability to see through people's characters.  Only…"

            "What?" prompted Kohaku after a while, his eyes involuntarily straying to Sango's from across the room. Sango found herself staring at Miroku, but for once, he was not looking at her.

            "Only she protects herself so well that she cannot allow anybody else in--undesirables or otherwise," he finished. "And despite what she has to say about it, I can understand more than she knows…and sympathize."

            Sango glanced away and said nothing.

            This guy was really formidable, she thought. But then, when was she ever swayed by gentle words anyway?

*********************************

            The second night found Lady Kirara again treading softly across the vast, carpeted floor of the Prince's suite. The only difference was, she was not as unquestioning of her mistress as the night before.

            This was so ill-advised, but the Princess would not hear any arguments. Something had happened during the afternoon that had doubled her determination in finding out the riddle's answer.

            By this time, Kirara was already a jangle of nerves. She could not wait to have the stealthy interview over and done with. They were playing with fire, and she was afraid that this time…this time they might get caught.

            This time, though, the figure on the bed appeared to be sound asleep.

            "Your Highness…" Kirara began. "Tell me about the riddle…"

            Gentle snores.

            Kirara frowned. Again, a curious feeling that something was not right crept into her senses. Slowly, she reached out and pulled down the bed covers over the sleeping figure's head…and realized that they'd been had from the very beginning.

*********************************

            "So his servant Hachi has been sleeping on his bed all this time," said Sango thoughtfully.

            "Yes, Your Highness," said Kirara.

            Sango paced the length of her bedroom. "Did he discover you tonight?" she wanted to know.

            Kirara shook her head. "He was still sound asleep when I left him," she said. "At least, I think so."

            "Did you try asking him what the riddle meant?"

            "He…he wasn't answering."

            Sango resisted the urge to grip and twist at her nightgown.

            "Your Highness…do you think--do you think we have to try a second time tonight?"

            "No," the Princess answered. "Leave them be for now. Let's make him think we've given up, and tomorrow night…"

            Kirara stared at her mistress as she reached a decision.

            "Tomorrow night, I will ask him myself," said Sango.

**********************************


	7. You Shall Be Mine

**The Riddle**

**_A Fairy Tale by the Brothers Grimm_**

Retold By 

Nana

(A Sango x Miroku fairy tale)

Chapter 7

You Shall Be Mine

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**Author's Notes: **Yes! As you can see, this fic ain't dead yet! Gomen, school has been most pressing, but this fic is going to be concluded really soon! Just one more chapter to go! Thanks, minna-san, for inquiring after it. Please do read on and review!

**Hentai Neko: **Chapter 6 only contains scenes from the first two nights. The announcement of the riddle, the ball and Miroku visiting Sango in the library right down to Miroku going to his rooms are all separated by mere hours during the first night. The third and last night will be tackled here. I hope this clarifies things a bit. ^_________^

Miroku's statement, "You shall be mine…" in this fic (highlighted by asterisk) is a quote from Marie Antoinette to her first-born child. The quote is taken from Antonia Fraser's biography of the French Queen--no copyright infringement intended. I thought it was touching and most appropriate for a MiroSan moment as well.^^

**Disclaimer: **We all know who owns MiroSan!

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            Although sleep eluded Sango the entire night, she wasn't sure she wanted to see another daybreak for as long as she lived. As the first rays of dawn gradually appeared to spread its thin fingers across the floor of her bedroom, all her anxiety and foreboding came pouring back with a rush. 

_No use staying in bed…_she thought, fighting down the urge to cry at the thought that perhaps tonight might be her last in this bedroom. Throwing aside the blankets, she got up and quickly changed into her riding habit.

            A good, early ride would help calm her. It had never failed her so far, and right now, she was going to need all the help and support she could get.

            When she got down, she quickly realized that she wasn't going to get any support from her father.

            Already, the entire palace staff was awake and quite busy setting up the ballroom for another night of festivities. When she saw that the prime minister was personally seeing to the physical arrangements, she erupted.

            "The three-day period of deliberation is not over yet!" she shouted and gave him her back before the good man could start stuttering his excuses. She knew that it was no good venting her anger on her father's servant, that he was merely following orders. Still, it hurt to see that the people who had seen her grow up were only too happy to give her away.

            Worst of all, they didn't seem to mind who they were giving her away to. Perhaps that was the most hurtful thing of all. It seemed as though they were quite willing to overlook the fact that Prince Miroku was the subject of one too many rumors that could easily tear a man's reputation to shreds.

            Sango had not forgotten these rumors. They were her favorite stories, made all the more irresistible because they involved a real person and not a paper hero. For quite some time, this flesh-and-blood Prince had reserved for himself a special place in Sango's imagination. From the way the cad acted in her friends' stories, surely he would be full of deceit. But he would also be handsome and charming, for why would her friends fall for him? He would be full of attention and promises, and he was going to be so interesting.

            But all that was before the actual Prince came along. Now, the only thing she could do was mourn for the days when she could safely examine and turn the notion of this marvelous monster around and around in her head, when she could banish him to oblivion with a single note of dismissal in her mind.

            The man was here now, and there was nothing she could do that would make him go away. He had backed her up in a predicament of her own devising. Tomorrow afternoon was all that stood between her freedom and a possibly horrid future with a man she hardly knew. A man she did not care to know. Right?

            As Sango waited for her horse to be saddled, she seriously contemplated about running away. But where could she possibly go? Perhaps she could escape and seek temporary asylum in one of her friends' domains? 

Although the idea was tempting, she knew from the moment the thought sprang into mind that she couldn't do it. It was part of the rules, first enacted to ensure no suitor (or Princess, for that matter) would chicken out during the last minute and run away from the agreement. For the man, it would mean a speedy execution. For her, breaking a rule within the Riddle's agreement would only hasten the fate worse than death. 

            Besides, it was never like her to flee from her problems. More importantly, she was bent on not giving the Prince any satisfaction in knowing that he had pinned her to a corner. 

            _But what if I can't solve his riddle? _Thought Sango dolefully. _What then?_

            As she paused before that dilemma, a new thought--unbidden and treacherous--stole into her brain: _Is it really that big a deal if you can't?_

            Sango gasped at the turn her wayward mind had taken.

            By all that was decent, surely she could think of a thousand reasons why that thought was wrong, but it pressed on.

            _Aren't you tired of fighting everyone and everything, Sango?_

            She shook her head at that thought, finding that she didn't know what to say to herself. Yes, she was tired of seeing people die on her account, but she was also tired of being subjected to the appraising gaze of greedy men. The thought that these ruthless, vile creatures might actually succeed in staking their claim not just on her inheritance--but on her very person--was enough to make her instantly sick. The Riddle had helped to keep these men at bay.

            And what about the Prince? Would he go the way the others had gone, or would he strike off on his own path? While she knew she could never trust him, how could anyone make her shiver with an emotion that was not entirely disgust?

            There was plenty of trickery about him, but there were also details about the man that did not quite match the charming, deceitful monster that she had made of him in her mind.

            _And face it, Sango…_a voice sighed in her head. _You find him fascinating_.

            Was that it, then? Was that what had prompted her to be so irrationally hostile to him? Unfortunately for her the lech had thought she was leading him on. Trust him to take things that way.

            But was he being serious at all? Was it possible for him to be serious about such things? Sango could not believe that he was risking his neck with this ridiculous endeavor. And all for what? If he did succeed, he was going to get saddled with a handful as a wife. If he lost the Riddle…

            With great effort, Sango forced herself not to think about it. She could not afford to be derailed from the task she had assigned to herself for this coming night. She had to do it.

            The wind still held a trace of chill from last night. She could feel it as it rushed against her cheeks. Day was just breaking as she rode off to the countryside. At the sight of the early morning sun, she felt some of the weight lift off her chest.

            Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad…the same sun should also rise on the north shores, shouldn't it? 

            _But what am I talking about?_ She groaned. _That isn't the issue at all, is it?_

            What was the issue then? Well, it was quite obvious, wasn't it?

            It was pretty obvious just what kind of a guy this person was. It had been made clear to her that first night at the ball. Even now, she could not think of him dancing with all the court ladies without feeling more than a little bit of rancor deep inside.

            But then there was also that library scene a few hours later; there had been something in his eyes (so close to hers) when he had produced that apple. 

That was the problem. Every time she came close to making a conclusion about him, he would do something to turn her opinion of him upside down. Sango just couldn't seem to be able to place the occasional bouts of kindness that she had seen in him anywhere in her formed equation of him.

How the hell did she ever get into this mess?

And how the hell was he able to get out of the castle earlier than she did?

Sango felt some of the old irritation creeping back when she slowed her horse down to a canter and found that, once again, the now-familiar figure in black had gone to intercept her at the road's fork. It was now quite clear that he was making it his habit to wait on her.

"Imagine seeing you here," she said, unable to keep the arch from her voice. "Shouldn't you be staying in the castle? They're preparing for a premature celebration, you know."

Miroku merely smiled. "And good morning to you too," he said easily. "Nice view you have here."

Sango followed the direction of his gaze and repressed a sigh. "It is, isn't it?" she asked.

"Kind of reminds me of the sunrises we have back home," said Miroku, his gaze still on the golden crescent peaking from the far horizon of mountains. "It's nice to know our Kingdoms have quite a lot in common."

Sango said nothing, but her look gave her thoughts away.

"What?" he asked laughingly. "You don't believe me?"

Sango could not stop herself then. "Why are you doing this?" She asked at last.

He turned to her, surprised. "What?" he asked.

"This--! This whole thing!" She exclaimed, gesturing. "You sound like you're serious about the whole thing! Do you need a wife this badly? Would just anyone do?"

Okay. So that wasn't the most subtle way to begin a conversation, but Miroku seemed ready to enter it. 

He gave her an oblique look. "Do you mean to tell me," he said, "that you regard yourself as just 'anyone'?"

It took her a while to respond. "Am I not to you?" she finally said. "I mean I hardly even know you!"

"Admittedly the Riddle is not giving us much, but there would be time enough for that after tomorrow," he said. "Having one's head on the line is no game. You should know that by now."

"Choosing a bride is no game either!" retorted Sango.

"I know that," he said quietly. He looked away. "I should be the one to be fully aware of that, don't you think?"

"You sure don't act like it," she said.

Much to her dismay, he turned back to her with a smile. "Don't I?" he said. "How should I disprove your claim then?"

Sango stared at him in alarm as he edged his horse closer to hers--so close that his booted leg was brushing hers.

"Would you like me to persuade you with promises and sweet words?" he asked, his voice warm and soft. "Or would you simply prefer a gesture?"

As he tried to lean closer, Sango pulled away and tried not to give into a frightened impulse to flee. It would be totally undignified, and she would be playing right into his hand.

"You know you cannot expect me to fall for those kinds of tricks," she spat.

Miroku nodded approvingly. "I thought so," he said. "Still, sparring with you is quite…fun."

"Oh. So this is what it's all about, is it?" she asked loftily.

"No," he said. "It's not everything, but it has to be there for things to work out, don't you agree?"

"What makes you think everything's working out?"

"It really depends on you, you know," said Miroku suggestively.

Sango shook her head as she struggled to keep a mass of confusing emotions in order. "Stop playing with me," she said shortly.

Miroku shrugged. "It seems that you've not been listening," he said, his voice carrying a trace of heaviness.

"I cannot trust you," she said stubbornly. 

_There_, she thought._ I've said it_. _Now, you will have no choice but to hate me._

"That is quite evident," he said, sighing. "But you must, if you are intent on uncovering the reason why I am pursuing this. The reason is not as far-fetched as you think, Sango."

They were silent for a moment before he said, "It seems the King is preparing for another night of festivities. Will you be there?"

"Does it matter?"

He regarded her, his face quite serious. "It's not for me," he said. "Don't judge your father too harshly. It may not exactly be right, but…he's doing this because he's concerned for you."

"He need not be," she said. "He taught me to be my own person. What he is seeing in me is merely the fruit of his labors."

"I have no doubt about that, and I know that your sound judgement will enable you to make the right choices in this situation. Only, promise me one thing…"

"What is it?"

"Promise me a chance. Let me have the first dance this evening," he said.

Before she could reply, he had turned his horse and was riding back to the castle.

******************************

            Perhaps it was in deference to his daughter or perhaps it had something to do with Sango exploding at the Prime Minister that morning--she wasn't really sure--but contrary to expectations, the evening's party had been subdued and intimate. The King had only invited a few close friends and associates over, all known to Sango since the age of ten. 

            There were only a handful of young people, and so of course the Prince got to dance almost all the waltzes with her. As always, he was dressed impeccably in black, with royal purple providing contrast from within the inner lining of his cape. All in all he was a distracting sight, and he chose to be on his best behavior for tonight.. It was difficult to avoid him now that she had his full attention, and the slow, soft music was not helping any.

            "Beautiful," was the only thing he said as greeting before he whisked her off for the first dance, before she had time to object. Since then, she had to endure his openly admiring gaze. He did not bother to talk much this evening, and after the fifth dance, Sango simply couldn't stand it anymore.

            "I need some air," she said as she abruptly disengaged herself from his arms, and he followed her out to the moonlit balcony. All the while, Sango could not bring herself to look at him. After a short, troubled silence, she said, "I have been thinking about what you said earlier--about a possible reason of yours for pursuing this."

"Really?" Miroku asked, lifting an arched brow. "Have you thought of one?"

"Unfortunately, no," she said as she shook her head distinctly. "And so I must ask you plainly, sir. What do you want?"

He sounded disappointed, but he managed to throw back the question by asking, "What do you think?"

Sango glanced at him and looked away, biting off a frustrated retort. After discarding all other theories, there was only one remaining. It was so improbable, though, and so disturbing, that she refused to even dwell on it.

And so she said, "Come on. What do you really want? You're too rich on your own to possibly want my inheritance. What then? My total and unconditional humiliation? Or do you just happen to find your thrills in this kind of aberrant risk-taking behavior?"

            Miroku let out a small sigh of exasperation. "What is there in our situation that that is so difficult to believe?" he asked softly.

            "Are you trying to tell me," asked Sango incredulously, "that you're willing to gamble your life over a girl whom you've only known for roughly three days?"

            "It's a gamble worth taking," he said simply and waited for Sango to recover.

"You're so…so arrogant, aren't you?" Sango finally managed through gritted teeth. "Say you succeed. Say you win the Riddle and got what you 'wanted', then what?"

            "Then…you shall be mine," he said, his voice husky and low. "You shall have my undivided care; you will share all my happinesses and you will alleviate all my sufferings*****…"

            Sango was speechless for a full minute, aware of a strange, hot flush suffusing her entire body. For this last evening, she had hoped that her words would somehow get through to him in time, stun him into some form of realization of the foolishness of his actions. Instead…

Instead, he continued to stare down at her, his violet gaze unexpectedly warm and tender. All of a sudden, the music and background din of merriment seemed very far away.

            She stood there, her arguments slowly fading away without her even realizing it. She was aware only of the moonlight, the faint, sweet smell of magnolias that mingled with the cool night breeze, and of his presence.

            "Is it so hard to believe, Sango?"

            When she did not answer, he continued, " You're very tired, aren't you? Tired of being afraid…" 

            She looked at him with wide eyes. "Why should I be?" she snapped.

            "Because after exhausting all efforts to arrive at a logical conclusion, you have reached a point where you're starting to realize that there might be something, after all, to what I have been saying."

            Sango looked away. "I'm not afraid," she muttered.

 "And there's no need to be, you know. Stop running away…stop fighting me," he breathed.

            He was close. So very close that she could only see the violet depths of his eyes. As if in slow motion, she saw him lower his head until his lips were mere centimeters away from hers. 

            Was this the moment that countless romantic novels had alluded to--the hero coming in to the rescue of a poor, hapless princess, if only to rescue her from loneliness? Even if she wouldn't admit it out loud, hadn't there been instances when she had dreamed of a moment such as this, when she would finally be able to meet someone who could allow her to bring her guard down--someone whom she would allow to sweep her off her feet?

            There had been moments when she wished there would be someone who could make her give up all rational thought in the pursuit of happiness.  Of course, that didn't happen in real life. It was all storybook fodder, and so of course the hero she had gradually shaped in her mind was fashioned from the pages of a book. Now, her storybook hero was crumpling like the paper that he was in front of this flesh-and-blood Prince. 

Nothing could prepare her for the real thing. He was real and possessed all the frailty that nature had given mankind. Disturbing, dangerous and so real, so alluring. 

But whatever her weakness, Sango could not allow the blurred distinction of what was real and what was not to cloud her faculties. There were only two options to choose from, and she chose fast.

            It took a few seconds for him to register the stinging pain as it blossomed on his left cheek, and all that time, Miroku stood there with an incredulous look on his face.

            The hand she had used to slap with him with was still there, poised on her side. In the sudden silence, he could hear her shallow gasps for air, full of outrage.

            "Enough of this pretense! You act as though know me that well," she hissed, "when in fact you don't know me at all!"

            She stopped before her voice could break and, turning around, ran to the direction of her rooms.

*******************************************

            It was all over then. 

            As Miroku lay on the large, empty bed, feeling that sleep was a long time in coming, he could not help but think that his past was fast catching up with him at last. He had not exactly rejected all the other girls this way, but was this how it felt to be on the receiving end?

            This was it. The conclusion of a love affair that had all the appropriate touches of doom. It didn't have to end this way, and yet Sango had decided it should be so. There was nothing else to be done.

            How could she even doubt him to the very end? Miroku could not understand it at first. It had never occurred to him that Sango would actually be afraid of him, but it became evident when she slapped him.

            In the few seconds that followed, it suddenly dawned on him why she was fighting so hard. It had been heartbreaking. 

He had remained on the balcony for quite a while, until the Princess' disappearance had become too obvious to conceal. Needless to say, the party fizzled out soon after.

So here he was, in his rightful bed, with nothing to do for a few hours except to stare at the square of moonlit floor on his side. He had waved Hachi off when his servant had asked whether they were going to switch beds again for the night. He doubted very much if he was going to be disturbed tonight.

And what was to come tomorrow? What was Sango up to? What was she going to tell the court? It didn't matter now, did it? Even if he did win, he would know that it would mean absolutely nothing. He would never be able to win her--

Miroku suddenly frowned. 

_What the..!_

Was it just his imagination, or did something just move from the shadows near the door? He did not hear it open though…

He waited, every muscle tense. After a while, just when he was beginning to doubt whether he had seen anything at all, a slim figure detached itself from the inky pools of darkness from a corner of the room and came over smoothly on silent feet, crossing the square of moonlight before pausing a foot away from the bed.

It didn't take Miroku a second to realize who his nocturnal visitor was. She was shrouded in a misty gray cloak.

****************************

            Sango stood in the shadows near the door for a long time, watching the figure on the bed. 

One move. One move from him was all she needed to call off this endeavor. She would be through that door as quickly and silently as she had come in. 

But he did not stir. Taking this as a sign to continue, she proceeded to the side of the bed quietly. 

He was lying on his side, facing her. From the regular rise and fall of his chest, she could see that he was sound asleep. She stood there awkwardly, aware that what she was doing was totally illicit. It was quite exciting.

She paused long enough to consider his features. It was a novelty, catching him in an unguarded moment. In repose, he looked so different. The arched brows were relaxed, making him look more innocent, more boyish. 

She panicked as she tried to wrench herself out of the stupor that was threatening to claim her. What was she doing? From the look of things, she could be content passing away the entire night just looking at him. She didn't know if she was going to get anything useful tonight. She wasn't even sure if she was going to get anything from asking him questions in his sleep--

_Get on with it, Sango…there's only one way for you to find out if it works. Do it before you lose your nerve completely…_

            She sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving his face as she began her interview.

            "Miroku…"

            He did not stir. Sango licked her suddenly dry lips as she continued, "tell me about the Riddle. 'One who slew nobody'--what does that mean?"

            She heard him sigh in his sleep. "The raven, the one that ate of Hachi's dead and poisoned horse. Hachi killed it…." His voice was so soft that it was almost inaudible.

            It was working. She couldn't believe it, but it was working. For a moment, the elation that soared through her was so intense that she couldn't breathe. "And yet slew twelve, what is that?" She asked further.

            "The twelve thieves…the ones who were planning to kill us. They ate the poisoned raven and died of it."

            So that was it…she couldn't believe everything had turned out to be so easy. And now, the next logical thing was to quit his rooms before he had a chance to wake up.

            But Sango lingered. Impossibly enough, she lingered.

"There's one more thing…" she said, her voice no more than a whisper. 

            Miroku's breathing was still even. "Those things you said to Sango," she said, her tone low and urgent. "Were they true?"

            "…Yes…but she wouldn't believe it…"

            "Do you think she should?"

            "It's the truth…I love her…I just don't know how I can make her believe me…"

            Sango drew back sharply, her heart pounding away in her chest. She had heard enough. Hearing any more would be her undoing. 

But as she got up to go, something felt wrong. For a moment, Sango could not quite figure out what it was. Something was not yielding. It took a moment for her to realize that it was her cloak.

            To her consternation, she found that he had somehow gotten a fistful of her gray cloak in hand, and no matter how carefully she tried to tug it away from him, he was showing no signs of letting go. Briefly, she considered prying his fingers away, but even before she could bring herself to do it, he had suddenly turned on the bed, bringing the cloak and its owner sprawling onto his side.

            _No no no…! _She wailed inwardly as panic threatened to wash over her senses. _This is it…! This is the part where he wakes up to find me in bed with him…I'll never be able to live this down..!_

            Incredibly enough, he slept on. After a few, tense seconds, Sango was able to breathe normally again. 

            _Okay, slowly now…_

Before she could inch away from him, an arm was flung over her waist and Sango found herself in Miroku's loose embrace. She could feel his warm breath on her nape, paralyzing her for a few minutes.

They remained that way for long minutes, long enough for Sango to make sure that his breathing had become regular again, long enough to make sure that she herself was going to be all right.

If the cloak had to be sacrificed, then so be it…

Quietly, she untied the knot that fastened the mantle onto her neck and slowly slipped out from the cloak as well as the close circle of his arm. For a moment, she sat on the floor, dazed. The hand that she brought to her face came away wet with the sweat from her forehead…and something else. It was only when she was able to get back to the sanctuary of her bedroom that she realized that her face was wet with tears.

It had been a mistake for her to go to his bedroom tonight. Even though she was indeed able to get the Riddle's answer from him, she was now in danger of not being able to use it against him on the morrow.

******************************

Okay….I really don't understand why the format of this page is like this once it's posted at ff.net. I tried taking down the chap and re-posting it, but the title layout is choosing to stay lopsided, along with the inconsistent paragraph indentation. Please help, anyone! Thanks!


	8. Evidence

The Riddle

**_A Fairy Tale by the Brothers Grimm_**

Retold By

**Nana**

**_(A Sango x Miroku Fairy Tale)_******

Chapter 8

**Evidence**

*********************************

**Author's Note: **Here's the last chapter! For the ending, I have decided to deviate from the original tale in terms of how the final court session went. Somehow, I feel that it is totally OOC for Miroku to expose Sango in front of everybody, so this is how I choose to deliver the ending of this fractured fairy tale. I hope this deviation will fit just fine.^^ There are shades of anime episode 78 toward the middle part, and as for sap…yeah, plenty of that near the end. Gomen! I really tried to tone it down, honest!

Thanks very much for all your reviews! I've had great fun in writing this fic and hearing from you all! Please do read on and tell me what you think!

**Disclaimer: **Yep. MiroSan still aren't mine…

**********************************

            The final day dawned cloudy and cold. Incredibly enough, after the Princess had left him, Miroku had fallen into an uneasy sleep. Now he awoke with a splitting headache and a dull sense of impending disaster. Instantly, memories of the midnight tryst came flooding back to him.

            What had possessed him to say anything at all to Sango last night (let alone the truth) was something he could not quite fathom. In the gray light of early morning, he seriously considered if he had gone overboard. True, he had pushed things too far by trying to kiss her in that moonlit balcony--it had been thoughtless and premature, and he had probably jeopardized his only chance in winning her over. But now he had endangered himself on her behalf…

            _You're out of your mind! What did you think she was going to do with your answer, anyway? _A part of his mind snapped.

            He wasn't very sure. Last night, he must have come apart more than he realized when it finally dawned on him why she was fighting so hard. She had been so desperate to escape him that it was unbearable to have her stay with him against her will a second longer. And so he had given Sango the ammunition needed to defeat him--Sango, who would want nothing more than to have him vanquished.

            He was such a fool!

            _Well, I can always use this as evidence…_he thought, staring down the length of the soft gray cloak that he still clutched in his hand. Even during the last minute, a vestige of self-preservation had kicked in. Could he really expose Sango this way, though? Would he really be able to humiliate her in front of her people?

            Or would he spare her, even if it meant that she would get away with cheating? It was very hard to think that she would be the type to resort to dishonesty. Her proud mien did not--could not--seem to allow it to be possible in her person.

            Sango had her faults, but dishonesty seemed a far cry from what she was capable of doing. It was all very strange.

            To add to the confusion, what was she doing, asking him if he had meant what he said last night? What could it all mean? Could he dare hope for the impossible, or was he merely being foolish when he thought that perhaps he had been able to chip away at the frost that covered her heart, made her see that there was something more to him than her preconceived notion of his person?

There was one more thing. Last night, as he sprang the last of his traps and embraced her while feigning sleep, he could have sworn…he could have sworn that he had felt her yield for an instant before she quietly slipped away.

Or maybe this was merely a way for him to realize that he was going crazy at last.

            There were more questions than answers, and Miroku winced at the weight of these speculations, feeling the dull throbbing in his head as it increased in tempo.

            _No use wondering what Sango is going to do or say today_, he thought with a resigned sigh. 

He flung aside the blankets, and waited as Hachi hurried over to help him with the morning toilette. Before they could get the tedious process underway though, the prime minister burst into their chamber without waiting for his knock to be answered.

             "Your Highness!" cried the Prime Minister breathlessly. His face had taken on a sickly pale hue. Glancing at that shocked countenance, Miroku knew without a doubt what the man was going to say.

            "The Princess," continued the Prime Minister, "she--she has ordered the court to reconvene. She says…she says she has the answer to your Riddle…" 

******************************

            Within an hour the Princess' announcement was made, the Court was packed to the brim with spectators. The same gentlemen and ladies who had been in attendance the first day were in their appointed seats, and many more lined the circular perimeter of the large hall. Unlike before though, the festive air--one full of delicious speculation and keen interest--was gone. These spectators had come as though for a funeral.

            It was all there in the solemn, steady gaze of the men and the sorrowful ones of the women. Their Princess was nothing but direct and orderly in her ways and intentions. She would not have called this session so early in the morning without a purpose. Clearly, she was going to win this one, just as she had all the previous sessions.

            Grief was almost palpable in the air--and it did not matter whom it was for, be it for the ill-fated, handsome Prince, or the unfortunate Princess who, by shunning all who wooed her, seemed destined to condemn herself to a lifetime of loneliness.

            The Prince had arrived after meeting the King one last time in the castle for a brief breakfast. It had been a silent affair, and neither man had felt like eating much.

The Princess had not been present. Word had it that she was already waiting in Court. 

            "Let her wait," commanded the King, his voice heavy. It was very clear that he had not taken his daughter's news well. "I will not let a guest of mine go hungry."

            And so Miroku sat down to a simple table in deference to his host, and the King tried not to broach the topic of the Riddle until the very last minute, when he could bear it no longer.

            "When I think about what could have happened--if only she could just…" he sighed, shaking his head. 

The King trailed off just as Miroku said softly, "we shall see what she has to say."

"Do you…do you think she has solved it?" asked the King worriedly. "Do you think she has worked out your puzzle?"

Miroku shrugged. "I don't know, your Majesty. Your daughter…Princess Sango is full of surprises," he merely said.

And now, as he stood behind the great oak door once more, he could not help but wonder if he was doing the right thing. 

_You can still get out of this…_a voice said reassuringly, reminding him of the folded cloak that he had Hachi bring. _Use it…_

It would all be over soon enough.

The sound of light footsteps a couple of feet away soon told him that he was no longer alone in the room. As he turned his head, he saw the Princess hesitate as she saw him by the door.

She was quick to look away when she saw him turn to her, but she was not quick enough to miss the look that he gave her. It made her stop and she looked back at him, startled.

She had half expected him to be confused, or at least clueless and with no recollection of what had happened last night. Instead, the look that he gave her was steady, serious and, although only the faintest touch of sadness could be seen within those violet depths, it was enough for her to realize something.

It was the sadness that gave everything away. Sango felt her eyes widen and found that she was unable to break away from his gaze.

Could it be…? Could it be that--

_He knows…_Sango thought, thoroughly disconcerted at the sudden realization.

It was unmistakable. He knew! He knew that she had been to see him last night! She couldn't understand how it was possible (well, yes, she should have suspected that the things that transpired during the night had been a little suspicious, especially that arm-flinging bit of his just as she was about to get away). 

_But if he knew everything, why did he tell me the Riddle's answer? Could it be that he's given me a wrong one? Could this be a trap?_

Unfortunately, she knew that the answer was genuine. There was no doubt about that…so what kind of trick did he have up his sleeve so late into the game?

But as she looked into those eyes, she realized that there was no more trick involved. And this was no game. Hadn't he said so just yesterday? Why wouldn't she believe him?

"Sango." His voice made her jump. She saw his lips quirk into a small smile as he continued, "this is it then."

How could he possibly smile at a time like this? And how could she possibly respond to his words? What would she say?

They were already being called inside the courtroom. In the confusing tumult of emotions that she was suddenly feeling, Sango decided to pretend that she did not hear him. She proceeded to walk past him, her eyes averted.

_Almost there… _

She was almost past him…she was reaching for the door handle when she heard him say softly, "I hope that you will be happy."

It was but a breath of sound, but Sango stopped, aware of a strange, searing sensation cutting across her chest.

There it was--the reason why he had given her the answer. There was no more pretense, no more doubt. He had been trying to tell her so last night, and she had never stopped to consider that he might actually have been telling her the truth all along.

Wasn't it so that if one had exhausted all possible hypotheses to a problem, the last one remaining, no matter how improbable, must be the answer? It was unwise to ever think that he was capable of such sincere sentiments, but was it just possible that he cared for her a little?

She turned to him then, but whatever it was that she wanted to say died even before she could utter a single word. Just then, the door opened, and a page was announcing her into the court.

****************************************

As Sango took her stand in the silent courtroom, she reached a decision.

            _Do something…anything…_

            She had to think of a way out of this. And fast. She paid no attention to the drone of the judges as the court went into session. She paid no attention to the hushed faces all around, paid no attention to the sad, averted countenance of her father nor the rising nausea within her as she reached her momentous decision.

            Right now…right now…she could only hold onto Miroku's gaze as he stood facing her on the other podium.

            "Princess Sango, have you the answer to Prince Miroku's riddle?" asked one judge.

            "Yes, I do," she said. She was surprised that her voice betrayed none of the tension she was feeling inside.

            "What say you then?"

            Sango paused nervously. "One who slew nobody," she began. "It--it's meant to be a fable, you see."

            Silence from the crowd. She looked away from the thunderstruck expression on Miroku's face.

            "Fable?" asked the judges blankly.

            "Yes, it's erm…it's about this…this swan," said Sango as sudden inspiration struck her. 

            The judges seemed dubious, but their silence told her to proceed.

            So there. The first step toward the inevitable had been taken. The deed done, Sango decided to embroider her story some more. 

            "There was this swan--a creature of such outstanding beauty, whose seeming perfection is the very source of all its misfortune. One cannot look upon it without desiring it for one's own. And so it was that twelve foolish princes had come to try to capture it for their own purposes…and in the ensuing pursuit of greed managed to kill each other off.

            "One who slew nobody--for it is not the swan's intention to kill--and yet slew twelve…the princes cannot understand the swan, you see. One does not set sight upon such a creature and proclaim it as his own then and there."

            Silence as Sango trailed off, wild roses blooming in her cheeks. "That's it," she said after a moment.

            Oh, God…it was such a mess. It was true she couldn't lie to save her life--or anyone else's--but it was the best that she could do under the circumstances. She could only hope that Miroku would see through it…

            It took the court a moment to respond. The judges turned to Miroku.

            "And is the Princess' account correct?" they queried.

            Miroku was having a hard time breathing. He could not tear his gaze away from Sango as he tried to work out what had just happened. She was making things up as she went along…but why??!

            And in her place, Sango waited tensely as she chanted a prayer in her head, _please…please, you big moron…please, please say you get it…_

            Apparently, he did not.

            "I don't know how the Princess arrived at the tale," he began heavily, "but…she's absolutely correct."

            The court drew a collective gasp of dismay at his words, the princess included.

            "The Princess is the swan," Miroku said and proceeded to elaborate. "And although the number in her story may not accurately reflect--"

            "What are you talking about?!" snapped Sango as soon as she recovered from the shock of hearing his acquiescence of her wild tale.

            Miroku turned to her, his wide eyes uncomprehending. "It's true isn't it?" he said, his voice carrying a thin thread of warning that she not blow apart the conspiracy that they were now spinning together. "You are the swan."

            "Yes--and no! Your riddle is not about some stupid swan!" cried Sango. "What are you trying to do?!"

            _Jeez! Even now…even now!_ He could still be stupid enough to think only of her in a situation that was endangering his life!

            It was most disarming.

            Miroku was shaking his head at her in warning. "You cannot possibly know what you're saying, Princess Sango--" he began.

            "Oh yes, I do!" she said. "I'm trying to save you, dammit!"

            She turned to the judges. "The Prince's riddle is about one of his encounters in the forest. One who slew nobody--it was a raven that partook of his servant's poisoned horse and died of it. It slew twelve when it found itself in a soup that twelve thieves took in. The twelve died as a result of ingesting the poison from the raven. It's as simple as that."

            The judges turned from the Prince to the Princess and back as the courtroom exploded in a fury of whispers.

           "Is this true?" they asked Miroku incredulously, but he was already past the point of speech. One look at Miroku's face, however, told them that it was, indeed, the right story.

            "So technically…you got the answer to the riddle, Your Highness," said one judge uncertainly to the Princess.

            "She did," pointed out Miroku helpfully.

            "I didn't," said Sango as she cast her eyes downward. And then, even more softly, she continued, "and that's not the end of the story about the swan. Another prince came along, and--and he promised to be different. Unlike the others, he was able to get hold of the swan, but he did what the others would not--could not--do. He released it. He had understood that much about its nature. He had tried to set it free--he had tried to set me free…I wouldn't have been able to solve the riddle without him."

            The noise in the courtroom grew to be so loud that it took a few minutes for peace to be restored.

            "Do you know what this means, Princess Sango?" asked one judge gravely.

            "I know," she said quietly, not glancing at Miroku's direction.

            Squaring her shoulders, she said clearly, "It's true. I got the answer from him last night. I will admit to that much. As your Princess, I will have you all know that even if it pains me…I know my limits, and I will not be unfair. The Prince gave me a choice, and now I have made my decision. I choose him."

            She held the confession short, leaving the agonizing details out as much as possible. What remained of her pride would not allow her to elaborate anymore than what was necessary. What she had said was more than enough.

            She stepped down from the podium and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster. The great doors of the courtroom closed behind her without her hearing the judges' decree. 

It was unnecessary.

            And as the meaning of her words slowly sank in on the audience, one cheer tentatively led to another, picking up in speed and volume until it became a roar, until peace was impossible to restore in court.

**********************************

            "Sango!"

            It was too much to bear. She couldn't stop, couldn't talk to him just now. She hurried out to the balcony, down the marble stairs. Quickly, quickly, before he could catch up, before the whole kingdom could burst in upon them.

            "Sango, wait!" A hand grasped her arm, turned her around to face him. "Not so fast…"

            She kept her eyes resolutely on the ornate folds of his black cloak as it swept its way down from his shoulder. He had been running. She could tell by the way his chest was rising and falling.

            "Look at me, Sango," he said softly, urgently. "What just happened back there?"

            She shook her head stubbornly. "What did it look like?" she ground out.

            "Why did you do it?" he asked, a note of wonder creeping into his voice.

            "I had to!" she cried. "You were so hell-bent on sacrificing yourself when I never asked you to in the first place!"

            And there it was. The piece of evidence that he had been looking for in the last three days. His search, done half in agony, half in hope, was over. She did not say the actual words. She did not have to.

            She did not resist as he gathered her in his arms, and she leaned into him as he held her close. It was all over, and for once, she did not care. They had both won.

            "Did you have any idea what I was going through back there?" he asked tenderly. "I didn't know what was going to happen…"

            "Then why were you backing me up?" she asked, unable to keep a querulous note from showing in her voice. "You were so…dumb!"

            He laughed ruefully. "I thought that was what you wanted," he said, "and I can't force you into something you don't want."

            "You won't be able to make me," she said truthfully as she brought her arms up his back.

            He looked down at her for a moment. "And is this what you want?" he asked.

            "Yes," she breathed as she smiled into his eyes.

            Slowly, tentatively, he brought his head down for their first kiss.

            Long minutes passed.

            "I thought I wasn't going to be able to trust you," she said when they were able to speak again. "I mean, all those women--are those stories even true?"

            He sighed as she felt him shrug. "Some of it, I guess," he said. "Only, I haven't been able to find what I've been looking for then."

            "And have you now?" she asked, a trace of doubt entering her voice. "I'm not exactly the easiest person you'll ever get to know, and I'm used to standing up for myself. I doubt if that will qualify for a Happily-Ever-After story--"

            "It's a start," he said smilingly. " And that would make it even more interesting, don't you think? I've finally come across someone who is her very own person."

            Stepping back from her, he took something out from his cloak. "And speaking of decrees, let me issue my first one right now."

            Miroku glanced down at the folded cloth in his hand, thinking how he had been planning to use it against her if the need arose. It didn't, and for that, she had his infinite respect and admiration.

            He draped her gray cloak over her shoulders. "Send forth the best tailors in the kingdom," he said, "and let this cloak be embroidered with silver and gold thread. It shall be your wedding veil, my dearest wife."

******************************************

**_Fin_****__**


End file.
